Musings on a cheap $40 Santa suit

I had a premonition when I was a lad of but six or seven. I had a small pot belly from eating too many green apples. One day, I was bemoaning to my mother that at this rate I would only qualify to be a Santa Claus when I grew up. (She has reminded me of it several times since.)

Fast forward several years to not long after I was married…my wife found a bargain (her words) at one of those after Christmas sales. She found it all alone in the bargain bin — calling out her name — so she says. She was the proud purchaser of a $40 Santa suit and she let me know that she had some very BIG plans for me. I resisted as long as I could. I believe that several family members borrowed it a time or two before I finally acquiesced. I don’t remember the particular reason, perhaps a fulfillment of destiny?

The first time, I had on a Joe Cannon for Senate tee shirt underneath with a pillow for necessary artificial “padding”. We went over to greet HB’s family. The top didn’t stay closed too well and apparently the Joe Cannon tee showed from time to time. One of the kiddies (Miley?) kept asking how Santa knew Joe Cannon?

I’ve appeared to families around the neighborhood throughout the years. Just popping in and handing out candy canes. My favorite visits are the ones with little ones ranging in age from 2 to 6. Any younger and they start to cry in fear. Any older and they start pulling the beard.

One year, we went to visit some friends that lived on the other side of town. It was great fun to roll the window down and start waving to people as we cruised State Street. The wife tried hiding as she was driving and Bird ducked down in the back seat from embarrassment.

Last night, I had a Santa gig for a good friend’s family party. The Joe Cannon tee shirt is long gone and unfortunately so is the necessary artificial padding — appears that I've grown into the Santa suit — figuratively and literally.

The tradition continues. There’s now a new generation of little relatives — the nieces are populating. Getting to see the sparkle in their little one's eyes when they turn as big as saucers upon seeing the man in red is worth wearing a cheap $40 suit and an itchy angel hair wig/beard anytime.

And, if I feel silly or embarrassed that I may be recognized, I can always console myself knowing that (cheap suit and all) any way you cut it, I gotta look a whole lot better than the cheap plastic seven foot inflatable Homer Simpson Santa Doll that my neighbor puts up in his front yard each Christmas season.