I’m Santa Claus

My wife and I were walking back to the parking lot after an afternoon of snorkeling.  I was dressed in my rather spectacular sunburn-proof costume – blue unitards, long-sleeved orange turtleneck, gloves, and a “terrorist mask” balaclava to protect my ears and face.

 On the sidewalk, we encountered a woman and her 6 - 7 year old daughter, who was staring at me with great curiosity. When our eyes met, I asked her, “Do you know who I am?”

 She shook her head.

 “I’m Santa Claus! This is how I dress when I go snorkeling.”

 “You’re not Santa Claus.  Santa lives up at the North Pole!”

 “Of course that’s where I live, but it’s much too cold to go snorkeling at the North Pole.  That’s why I come down here!”

 “You’re not Santa Claus.  Santa Claus is fat, and you’re skinny.”

 “I’ve been on a diet!  Don’t I look great!”  I patted my tummy for emphasis.

 “Santa’s got a big white beard!”

 I pulled down my balaclava to reveal my full white beard.

 “Tell me your name, please.”

 “It’s Alice.”

“Do you know what, Alice, we have got several new baby reindeer up at the North Pole, and we haven’t given them any names yet.  Now as soon as I get back home, I’m going to name one of our new baby reindeer just for you!  And on Christmas Eve, when the sleigh gets to your house with all your presents, you can give Alice Reindeer a nice kiss on her big wet nose!”

In a world as disturbed as ours, I think it is important to use every opportunity to engage children lovingly and playfully.