My dad was a complicated man. He was a huge racist, my dad, but he still tried to be a good father, you know? Like, he would tell me that Santa Claus was black - that way, when I found out he didn't exist, it wouldn't be that big a let down.
I grew up in a house where my father encouraged my brother and me to fail. I specifically remember coming home and saying, 'Dad, Dad, I tried out for this or that and I was horrible,' and he would high-five me and say, 'Way to go.'
I remember arguing with kids on the street who were talking about Santa Claus. I said don't be so daft - Santa Claus doesn't come down our chimney. He's an economic Santa Claus; he goes down chimneys where they've got money.
Growing up, Santa Claus would cover the presents with a white blanket, so when we'd wake up Christmas morning, we had to wait for my dad to do the big reveal of all the presents Santa brought.
A cynic is just a man who found out when he was ten that there wasn't any Santa Claus, and he's still upset.
There are three stages of man: he believes in Santa Claus; he does not believe in Santa Claus; he is Santa Claus.
I'm a huge romantic but I've been unlucky in love. My mum and dad have been together since my mum was 18 and the problem with that is that me and my sister are always looking for my dad. And he doesn't exist because, well, Dad's Dad!
I used to tell my mum to leave my dad when I was, like, nine. I loved my father, don't get me wrong. I really loved him, but he wasn't a good dad, and he wasn't a good husband.
My dad is such a good man. You know how when you are a child you think your dad is invincible? Well, I still think that - he is so wise and everything I do I ask my dad's advice about first.
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.
I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus. Underneath the mistletoe last night. She didn't see me creep down the stairs to have a peep; She thought that I was tucked up in my bedroom fast asleep. Then, I saw mommy tickle Santa Claus Underneath his beard so snowy white; Oh, what a laugh it would have been. If daddy had only seen. mommy kissing Santa Claus, last night.
Here comes Santa Claus! Here comes Santa Claus! Right down Santa Claus Lane!
I can't tell you how many times at the breakfast table my dad would curse out Franklin Roosevelt. I love my father. He was an intelligent man, but he really didn't like regulations of the Roosevelt style, or the taxes. He was an Dwight Eisenhower man. And that's what Eisenhower did, committed to breaking down the program.
You know, you learned that very young in American culture that the feminine boys don't do well. And yet, I had a dad who was a lieutenant colonel in the army. My dad was a man's man, but he still adored me. And somehow in the midst of that, I still grew up hating the sissy in me.
If I could choose the perfect Dad
There's no one I would rather
Have Dad, than you Dad
Coz you go further, Father
Happy Birthday Father
I see God as my heavenly father, like my earthly father, as loving and kind. Yes, he disciplined me, he helped me make good decisions, but I knew my dad was always there for me. If I made a mistake, I wouldn't run from my dad, I'd go to him.
You remember when you were a kid growing up, and believed in Santa Claus? There's not much difference between Santa Claus and me today, you know. We're two overweight lovable guys that kids really enjoy.