...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.