The setup was that we would leave the church service early - arrive at the granddaughter's apartment, - then leave the front door open and let her find me leaving presents. No speaking role required. Then I was to leave via the back door and disappear into the night.
As it happened, we had a few slight improvisations: the boyfriend of the mother of the grandchild was home sick, vomiting. And after I sent him to the basement to pluck meaninglessly on his guitar, I had to wait an extra half hour beyond what I expected in a suit, wig and beard made of 100% man-made fibers (i.e., sweating my balls off) with a beard that refused to stay up on one side and red velvet Capri pants that refused to cover my substantial ass. Add to this, the fact that I had overindulged the night before and had wicked gastro-intestinal issues, it was a scene ripe with unfortunate possibilities.
Fortunately, the entire family arrived shortly before I bitch-slapped the boyfriend into assuming my role so that I could have some privacy in a bathroom somewhere.
The plan did not go entirely as hoped - upon spotting my ample backside while placing presents under the tree, the granddaughter ran to the door and said "Hello."
I had to improvise and - fortunately - was not wearing my designer glasses.
Tugging my wig down as far as it would go and scrunching my eyes and face as much as possible, I held up a white gloved hand with my index finger - indicating a "shush" gesture - while covering as much as my face as possible.
I heard her gasp - and I returned to placing presents under the tree.
As I headed towards the kitchen and the back door, I paused to wink at her and wave with a gloved hand in front of my face.
I'm told she lost her little mind and had the most amazing Christmas Eve ever.
And I am so pleased to have been a part of that. Merry Christmas everyone - I can only hope you love someone as much as these grandparents love their grandchild.
And as much as I love you - Happy holidays, all.
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| Santa is in the hood, yo! |
5 comments:
I love it... We spent the day with Michael's niece and grand niece (both under 6) they would have both loved to see Santa arranging the toys (with or without designer glasses)...
Happy Christmas my blogging friend!
I have been a reader for a long time and enjoy your posts.
I have never commented but this one brought tears to my eyes.
This is what Christmas is all about. I am in my 50's and when I was about 5, I saw Santa at my house as well. I asked my Mom in older years who that was. She went to her grave without telling me who it was.
Cristmas Eve was always at Grams, as a younster. I went to the bathroom and 'missed' him everytime! LOL
HOw they managed to do all they did in a few short minutes never ceases to amaze me. 50 years ago and those memories are precious!
big hugs to you and yours,
Lulu,
From the midwest, near Chicago,
third time I had to shovel snow in the last week! ARGGGGGGG!
What a great story. I am sure you made a great impression. A similar thing happened to me when I was a kid. I still remember it and at the time I was so thrilled that I got to see Santa. Hope your holidays were bright and cheery, and with as less of those "unfortunate possibilities" as possible!
Thank you all for your comments - I went into it with kind of a playful yet neutral attitude.
It was only afterward that I realized what it meant to that wonderful little girl.
This, for me, was the high point of the holiday season.
Love to you all (and Lulu - we're about to get a lot of that white stuff ourselves - thanks for stopping by!!!)
Are you Father Christmas? I really think you are. You do the most wonderful things.
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