I love Christmas. Everything about the holiday makes me happy– decorated trees, Christmas lights, gifts, cocktails, and even Christmas music. Invariably, the Christmas episodes on TV shows are my favorite, I can’t get enough of Christmas movies, and I cry every time Meg Ryan decorates the damn tree in “You’ve Got Mail.” Then again, that doesn’t feel like my fault. Joni Mitchell is playing. What, am I supposed to sit there, not crying?
Who here likes “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus?” No one, obviously. That song is weird and gross and you know why? The creep factor doesn’t come from some deeply voiced dude being like “you’re hurting my pride by not letting me put my candy cane inside you and if you go outside you will die from inclement weather.” No, it’s far worse. The kid is the creep.
First of all, let’s take this from the infidelity angle. Let’s just say your mom is cheating on dad with Santa Claus and you’re peeping around the corner like some sick lunatic gleefully watching your mom do weird stuff to some dude who’s not your dad. If you see that, shouldn’t you have other feelings? Like “oh my goodness, my mother is having an affair with an intruder dressed in a weird garment. I’m probably going to have to go to therapy.” Also, I hope you can understand that your mother is a person and if she cheated on your dad, she’s not a bad person necessarily, she’s a person who did a bad thing. And cheating is never acceptable but I hope in time you’ll come to realize that even your parents aren’t infallible.
But I don’t buy that infidelity racket one bit. Hey kid. Listen to me, you dumb idiot. Santa doesn’t exist. That’s your dad who went to the store, bought a freaking Santa suit, and put it on to entertain you. And then to entertain your mom. Maybe you haven’t had the talk yet and are curious about sex and sexual things, and in that case–well actually in that case good for you. Let your mom get in on with Santa and feel free to bring it up with your parents as soon as you feel comfortable. Questions are healthy and it’s normal to wonder about sex stuff. But stop being a little dweeb about it.
We all have Santa sex fantasies and if you disagree with me you’re entitled to your wrong opinion. Santa Claus is a dude who enters our chimneys to give us his sack full of gifts. That is literally the definition of heterosexual intercourse. Your dad was clearly just fulfilling one of your mom's fantasies and you have to make it all weird. Way to go, idiot.
In addition to hating the song’s narrator, I truly hate the song, too. It’s exceptionally gendered to an insane degree. The narrative includes the mom kissing Santa, the mom tickling Santa, but makes no mention of Santa sitting here with a giant boner in his Santa suit. Is the mom raping Santa in this situation? Of course not. Santa is a willing participant in the adult sexual experience, but for some reason we’re only spying on Mom here. This is blatant shaming of a woman for experiencing and acting on sexual desire while we paint the man as just standing there, a victim of her sexual wiles.