Dad's World with Jonathan deBurca Butler

Dear Santa,

I wanted to write to you to thank you for all the presents and gifts that you’ve given me over the years. I see Star Wars’ Millennium Falcon is making a bit of a comeback, that’s kind of cool, though maybe it’s a bit of a pain in the antlers for Rudolph, I imagine they’re fairly cumbersome bloody things to carry around. I shouldn’t use that word — my three-year-old tells me it’s a bold word.

Yes, I have two of them now. Two boys. I know it’s mad, isn’t it? It doesn’t seem that long ago that I fell off your knee in Dunnes Stores Cornelscourt. I always wondered if you were feeling well that day. You looked a bit under the weather. Whatever medicine you were taking had a pretty strong smell I seem to recall but I’m glad to see it worked and you’re still going strong.

I know I didn’t write to you last year but fair play to you you were still listening. All I wanted last year was more sleep and you came good or at least fairly good. The little fella still wakes up in the middle of the night every now and then and the older one has the occasional violent nightmare but overall the sleepometer is moving in the right direction. That said, you can never have too much, so if you like, you can top them up with a bit more dozy drops when you stop by this year. Cake and Guinness are waiting for you, by the way.

The boys have been fairly good this year. I’ll be honest with you, if you could make Fionn a bit more co-operative it would be great. His lug holes could do with a bit of an aul clean out too and I mean that metaphorically, we do give him a bath every night and his ears are actually fine but if you could sprinkle him with a bit of do-as-we-ask-you-dust we’d be grateful.

Also, if there was anyway you might have a bit of a chat to him about pushing his little brother and smashing him in the face with his toy Batmobile that would be great. To be honest, the way it’s going at the moment it’s more for his own sake than for ours. Luke is beginning to hit back, and boy can he pack a punch. Well, it’s not really a punch it’s more of a grab and scratch but, judging by Fionn’s reactions, it seems to be quite effective.

Not that they’re always at each other. In fact it doesn’t happen that often at all. That causes its own problems. And actually with that in mind, if you could also consider telling them to stop ganging up on me, that would be great.

The other day I was trying to cook their dinner, when they crept up behind me and attacked me with crayons. Before I could chase after them they were gone like a flash. Two minutes later they were back and at it again, except this time the little one made the mistake of drawing on my trouser leg. I managed to nab him and I would have tickled him to death had his older brother not intervened by jumping on my back.

So you see Santa, even though they argue they seem to have got each other’s backs but just tell them not to gang up on me... please.

Also, the nudity, that has to stop. Lately before they have their baths, they’ve gotten into a habit of running around the house screaming: ‘nudie, nudie, we’re all nudie’. This is a family home Santa, not 1960’s Woodstock.

Just before I go if I could just mention, Fionn was hoping to get a Paw Patrol scooter, and even though he doesn’t know it yet, Luke wants a kitchen.

Ciara has probably written to you herself but I can tell you she deserves a very large present.

Myself? Oh don’t worry about me but if you insist, a Christmas involving the occasional pint with friends, a few nice dinners with family and as much peace and quiet as humanly possible would be great.

Happy Christmas old pal.

Yours faithfully,

Jonathan.