......revelations of one woman's reality of life, love, and all things hopeful...

Monday, December 8, 2008

Christmas Nightmare Comes True

...for my cousin Chris...

In Minneapolis on Saturday, more than 300 Santas gathered for the city's 3rd annual
Santa Run, a fund raiser to help provide free legal services to people who cannot afford it.

I just need to say something about this. I cannot be more thankful that I was nowhere near Minnesota on Saturday. I'm not kidding. 300 Santas in one place is truly my nightmare becoming reality.

I love to get presents from Santa, let's be clear about that. I just prefer that he waits until I am fast, fast, fast asleep before he comes in my house.

I've always been a bit hesitant about Santa Claus. Some years ago, oh say 30 years, I remember having a melt down on Christmas Eve...I didn't want Santa to come. I was afraid of his beard.

When is the last time you saw someone with a thick white beard that hang halfway down his big fat belly? I mean really? Let's face it, only Santa can get away with that! Other men with really long beards are referred directly to Extreme Makeover.

I can tell you when I last saw a man who looked like that... A few years ago I was working at a hospital doing speech therapy. My coworker who did speech for the home health department of the hospital was on vacation, so I helped out by treating some of her home health patients.

I got the directions to my first patient's house and headed out for Crow Mountain. I drove and I drove, turning left and right, left and right. The roads became more and more narrow as they winded their way deep into the heart of the boonies of Jackson County. I knew I was getting close to the correct address, but I wasn't positive which house I was looking for.
As I was driving, I glanced to the right and noticed a man standing out in the yard of a little run-down cottage. He was really tall, barefoot, wearing overalls with no shirt underneath, and yep, you guessed it....he had a long, straggly white beard. I shuddered as I thought ooo, I'm glad I don't have to go there.

Well, I know I don't even have to say it: I had to go there. As luck would have it, after I passed the man, I kept driving to discover, according to the house numbers, I had gone too far and must have missed the correct house. I turned my car around and soon discovered that my patient was at overalls-without-a-shirt-long-white-beard-man's house! Oh this is just great! I'm probably about to die!

He turned out to be harmless, and his mother (my patient) was just precious.


Yes, I know that Santa is harmless too.

Can't somebody just give him a makeover? All that facial hair is just scary!

It's no wonder why babies cry when their mommas make them sit in Santa's lap.

1 comment:

Chris the Greatest Cousin Ever said...

300 Santas...WOW!!.. If I would have seen an advertisement, we would have flown there just for that...Thanks for the laugh I need that....Chris