You Better Watch Out

Last week my friend Heidi (who has a hilarious blog that I would link to, but it's private) came over and recruited me to play Santa for her aunt's ward Christmas party. I would've been excited to do it anyway, but then Heidi offered to bake me cookies if I would do it. It was appropriate, since that is the payment the real Santa receives for his work, plus I'm a sucker for cookies, which is why my bowlful of jelly needed no padding to fill out the costume. The picture above is me in the clerk's office at the church, which doubled as my dressing room. (If any kids are reading this: I'm not the real Santa. Just one of his helpers. But Santa Claus is real, so don't stop believin', no matter what some Grinchy adults might say.) The suit had obviously been around for many, many years; I was already planning on blaming the inversion my sleigh had to descend through if any kids asked why my beard was yellow. It didn't come up, though, which allowed me to avoid thinking about how gross it was.

After a performance by some random acapella group, the kids were brought on stage to sing "Here Comes Santa Claus." A few lines in, my wardrobe assistant opened the doors at the rear of the gym where the party was being held, and I walked in, shaking some jingle bells, waving, and yelling "ho, ho, ho." It was kind of weird, because I didn't know if I was supposed to wander around for a while or head straight for the kids, plus I couldn't see very well because I was wearing Kris Kringle glasses instead of my own, and the wig really reduced my peripheral vision.

I eventually made it to the stage. I'm not sure why, but pretty much everyone at this party was dressed up. There was nothing particularly fancy about it (though it was very nice), but it probably helped prevent the kiddos from getting too rambunctious.

All of a sudden, it was happening. This was the first girl in line. I really had no idea what to expect. Would they actually want to sit on my lap? Even the older kids? Would they be excited, or act all too cool for school? Would there be any troublemakers trying to yank my beard off? But everything went very smoothly. The kids were unfailingly polite, and they all interacted with me as if they thought I was the genuine article. Whether they were just humoring me and their parents or actually believed, it doesn't really matter; everyone had a good time.

As each child sat down, I went through the same basic spiel: What's your name? How old are you? Have you been good this year? What do you want for Christmas? This was the part that worried me most: how would I respond to their requests? Even in nonrecession times, it's not wise for Santa stand-ins to promise specific gifts; I tried to avoid that, as well as to avoid saying "I don't think you've been THAT good this year." I found a good middle ground for most of the kids with some variation of "well, you've still got two more weeks where you have to be good, and I'll see what I can do."

After this exchange, I'd try to ask one other question, mainly for my own entertainment--things like, "where should I go on my post-Christmas vacation?" or "I'm thinking of getting a new reindeer--what should I name it?" (One precocious 8-year-old answered Olive, as in Olive the other reindeer.)

There were two little boys that were my favorite. One hopped on my lap, and when asked for his name, said "I told you this afternoon when I saw you at daycare--don't you remember?" I eventually got Christopher to play along by reminding him that Santa has to check his list twice due to his forgetfulness, and he told me he wanted a Thor sword. A few minutes later he ran back up and interrupted another child to tell me he actually wanted a different Thor weapon.

And this kid was my other favorite. I had already spoken to his older brothers, then they brought this little guy (one year old!) up to take his turn. I wish I had a picture taken from over my shoulder--this one doesn't come close to doing justice to how wide-eyed he was. He gaped at me, open-mouthed, too mesmerized to cry. And he was so adorable in his little sweater.

Basically, I'm a huge fan of Santa, and of kids, and of Christmas. I hope I get to do this again sometime. I'll keep practicing my cookie eating, just to be on the safe side