SANTA LOSES IT

It was the night of the big dance, and Santa was on hand to pose with 400 people with disabilities, listen to their stories and subject himself to the love, hugs and kisses of the spirited group at this annual holiday dance.

But first Santa had to dress, and in a large janitorial closet laid out his costume for the night. Slowly he darned the pants that were too big, and Lord have mercy no belt to hold them up! But that was OK, Santa was resourceful, he tucked the waist of the red pants into the belt of his street clothes that he would wear underneath the costume.

After struggling with the boots, a thin covering that looked like leather and slipped on over the feet, he looked at his watch and it was time for the big arrival. But suddenly, a panic overcame him, as he discovered that he had NO beard! This naturally bearded imposter had no beard to play Santa.

Going to the door of the closet, standing by the door was a young woman.

“Pssst! Yes, you-go across the dance floor to that office over there, and tell the ladies in there that Santa needs a beard!”

I sat and hoped the young lady was reliable and understood. After a while, the door swung open and there stood Santa’s helper, with a beard in a large envelope, I was saved!

And so the evening went on, sitting for pictures, listening to sad stories, and long demands for the holiday. The belt around my suit jacket kept coming undone, and the cap kept falling off, Santa was having a difficult time of it! The conversations went something like this:

“Merry Christmas young man, it’s good to see you!”

“I know.”

And so the evening wound down as the last of the participants had their photo taken.

“Well Santa, I guess we are done!” said my helper, as I rose to started my long journey across the room in my ill fitting costume. Slowly I made my way as people were now starting to press to get a piece of Santa, shaking his hand, patting him on the back, hugging and kissing and leaving last minute reminders of what they wanted. As I moved I noticed how almost paralyzed my legs were becoming! The closer to the door I got, the more paralyzed I became!

Finally I reached the door, and entered the closet, where I looked down at my legs, the Santa pants were down around my ankles!

MERRY FREAKIN CHRISTMAS!

Happy birthday to my polish brother-in-law: Tom. Time to sing another verse of ‘By me a pork chop’!  (An inside joke)