Christmas Story

     Santa Claus told me a story today, so I know he exists and here it is:
     Once upon a time,  I lived in Spain among the tourists.  (In the middle ages they had tourists too, he explained.)  One day I came home to find dead rats all over my table.  Off to Holland, I explained to my wife.  They don't have any dead rats there, they're clean.  Everyone knows the Dutch are clean.
And that's the part of the story that everyone doesn't know.  And that's all you're getting because you're not sitting with your feet flat on the floor...oh, yes you are.  Everything else everyone knows.  It's all been written, don't you think?  No, I'm just kidding.  Well that's all you're getting because you're too tired.  I could breathe in, I said.  Oh, well then, you won't be tired and I can continue, he said.  You don't sound like Santa, I said.  Oh, well, that's because you asked for a story.  You should have asked for  two stories, then I'd really sound tired.  Now, let's get started.  Where are you going tonight?  Out for dinner, I said.  Oh, well then, we'll get started with a little five minute one, if you want to push me.  Otherwise, I think our time is up, he said for a funny.  I suppose it's my fault for asking for a story in September.