THE annual Santa tour has become quite a tradition over the years and 2022 will be remembered for the introduction of a new dimension to the proceedings.

“The Naughty-ometer” is a contraption my eldest son, Christopher, ingeniously created to breathe new life into my annual Christmas visit – resplendent in my Father Christmas outfit – to our neighbouring village of Croft-on-Tees.

Covered in red glitter and gold tinsel, The Naughty-ometer is designed to tell, without fear or favour, if someone has been good, or naughty, during the year gone by. If it flashes green when it’s waved in front of a person’s body, then they’ve behaved themselves. However, if they’ve been bad, a red light flashes and it makes a buzzing noise.

This year, there was a healthy gathering of families under a marquee when I arrived and took my place on the throne in my garage grotto. The adults were already well into quaffing glasses of wine, leading to topical questions from Santa: “Is Partygate still going on? Did you bring your own booze?” And “Is Boris Johnson here?”

The serious business started by testing The Naughty-ometer on a couple of dads. Santa had been been tipped off about them by texts from his elves, and Peter was summoned up first. He sheepishly claimed he’d been “pretty good”, but the clever festive device clearly suggested otherwise – flashing red and buzzing loudly.

“Is it true that, although you’re officially called Peter, you’re known as ‘Arfur’ because you only ever do arfur job?” Santa asked, sternly.

“Er, possibly,” he replied, squirming under the spotlight.

“Well, I put it to you, Peter – sorry Arfur - that your kitchen units went in during 2017, and your wife is still waiting for you to finish the kick-boards. Is that the case?”

“Yes, I suppose so, Santa,” he mumbled.

After Peter was told in no uncertain terms to “get his finger out”, Steve was next to be called into the grotto to admit, under cross-examination, that he’s known as “Half-a-Job Harry” when it comes to home improvements.

“Can you confirm that there’s a bag of shelves and brackets still in an IKEA bag, waiting to be put up?” Santa demanded to know.

“I’m afraid so,” he confessed, as beads of sweat broke out on his brow.

Once the naughty dads had been dealt with, it was the turn of the children to sit beside me, one by one, and be judged by The Naughty-ometer. I’m pleased to say that all of them got the green light, had a sprinkling of magic snow on their heads, and had a nice little chat with Santa before being given a chocolate umbrella for being good.

I’d say it was all going very well until three-year-old Phoebe decided to eat the fake snow and had to be rescued by her Mum before being replaced by her older sister, Katie.

Katie was eager to ask for a Fitbit, a black hoodie, and anything related to Harry Potter. She also updated Santa on what she’d been up to during 2022, including taking part in a show at Darlington Hippodrome with her dance school, starting gymnastics classes, and learning to do a handstand.

 “We also went on holiday to the Lake District with Mummy and Daddy,” Katie smiled.

“Ooh, that must have been nice – did you do lots of exciting things?” asked Santa.

“Yes,” she replied. “They took us to the pub e-e-e-e-e-very day!”

THE THINGS THEY SAY

NATURALLY, Santa also visited our six-year-old daughter, Chloe – popping into her bedroom in the half-light and having a lovely little chat.

“Did Santa visit you last night?” I asked her on Christmas Day.

“Yes, he always does,” she told me.

“What did he say?” I enquired.

“Sorry, that’s private,” she replied.

AMONGST her presents from Santa, our six-year-old grand-daughter, Chloe, got a jar of ‘slime’.

“Can I take it to show Uncle Jack and rub it on him?” she giggled.

“No, Uncle Jack doesn’t like slime – it scares him,” her Daddy explained.

“I know!” she replied with a wicked smile.