Page 16 of Santa Has a Six-Pack
But this Santa here?
Is a guy who exercises!
* * *
He can do a burpee, a squat,
A killer jumping jack!
It’s probably no surprise that…
Eugene runs over and unzips the top of my spandex suit.
I sing from the top of my lungs:
THIS SANTA HAS A SIX-PACK!
I stand triumphant, the barbell overhead, my exposed abdominals glistening in the fluorescent lights. I know they’re glistening because I applied plenty of baby oil to them while waiting in the hallway.
Dottie claps.
Keira gasps.
Penny… sneers? Yeah, the look on her face could definitely be categorized as a sneer. But hey, I have lots of verses left in me. Plenty of time to win her over.
I release the barbell to the ground. Eugene whisks it away and hands me a jump rope. I perform a series of double-unders throughout the next verses.
He’s checking your list, babe.
He’s checking it twice.
He loves it when you’re naughty.
’Cause naughty IS nice.
* * *
Those things on your list?
Consider them done.
Sit on his lap, babe.
Get ready for fun!
* * *
When he comes down your chimney
With his great big sack,
You can claw your nails down…
HIS SANTA SIX-PACK!
I lasso my jump rope and throw it to Eugene, nearly decapitating him. He gives me the look of death, but recovers quickly and ups the volume on our beat, signaling it’s time for the chorus. The only equipment the chorus requires is the depth of my squat and the explosivity of my hips. Both of which I have in spades.
This is the move I botched in the hallway when I pumped into Penny. With her at a safe distance now, I pump the air with everything I have.
