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At a wedding ceremony that I was performing, I raised my hand to give the final blessing.

The bride misunderstood my gesture and surprised me with a high-five.

Not wanting to exclude the groom, I offered him a high-five, too.

I was finally able to get my blessing in, amid the laughter of the guests.

A young man is paired up with a priest on the first hole at the golf course. When they make it to a long par three the priest asks, "What are you going to use on this hole son?"

The young man says, "An eight iron, father. How about you?"

The priest says, "I'm going to hit a soft seven and pray."

The young man hits his eight iron and puts the ball on the green. The priest tops his 7 iron and dribbles the ball out a few yards.

The young man says, "I don't know about you father, but in my church when we pray, we keep our head down."

Upon going away to college, my former brother-in-law received a hand mixer from his mother because of his fondness for mashed potatoes. Later that semester, she asked him how the mixer was working for him.

"Not very good," Terry said, "the potatoes keep flying all over the kitchen."

After a perplexed pause, his mother asked, "Terry, did you cook the potatoes first?"

To which a surprised Terry responded, "You have to cook the potatoes first?"

I think Santa Claus is a woman....

I hate to be the one to defy sacred myth, but I believe he's a she.

Think about it. Christmas is a big, organized, warm, fuzzy, nurturing social deal, and I have a tough time believing a guy could possibly pull it all off!

For starters, the vast majority of men don't even think about selecting gifts until Christmas Eve. It's as if they are all frozen in some kind of Ebenezerian Time Warp until 3 p.m. on Dec. 24th, when they--with amazing calm--call other errant men and plan for a last-minute shopping spree.

Once at the mall, they always seem surprised to find only Ronco products, socket wrench sets, and mood rings left on the shelves. (You might think this would send them into a fit of panic and guilt, but my husband tells me it's an enormous relief because it lessens the 11th hour decision-making burden.) On this count alone, I'm convinced Santa is a woman.

Surely, if he were a man, everyone in the universe would wake up Christmas morning to find a rotating musical Chia Pet under the tree, still in the bag.

Another problem for a he-Santa would be getting there. First of all, there would be no reindeer because they would all be dead, gutted, and strapped on to the rear bumper of the sleigh, amid wide-eyed, desperate claims that buck season had been extended. Blitzen's rack would already be on the way to the taxidermist.

Even if the male Santa DID have reindeer, he'd still have transportation problems because he would inevitably get lost up there in the snow and clouds and then refuse to stop and ask for directions.

Add to this the fact that there would be unavoidable delays in the chimney, where the Bob Vila-like Santa would stop to inspect and repoint bricks in the flue. He would also need to check for carbon monoxide fumes in every gas fireplace, and get under every Christmas tree that is crooked to straighten it to a perfectly upright 90-degree angle.

Other reasons why Santa can't possibly be a man:

~ Men can't pack a bag.

~ Men would rather be dead than caught wearing red velvet.

~ Men would feel their masculinity is threatened, having to be seen with all those elves.

~ Men don't answer their mail.

~ Men would refuse to allow their physique to be described even in jest as anything remotely resembling a "bowlful of jelly."

~ Men aren't interested in stockings unless somebody's wearing them.

~ Finally, being responsible for Christmas would require a commitment.

I can buy the fact that other mythical holiday characters are men. Father Time shows up once a year unshaven and looking ominous. Definite guy. Cupid flies around carrying weapons. Uncle Sam is a politician who likes to point fingers. Any one of these individuals could pass the testosterone screening test. But not St. Nick.

Not a chance.