It was the last day of school for the year and I was on my way to attend Josh’s second grade class party. I was beginning to feel a smidgen of anxiety as I drew closer to the school building because: I was dressed up like Santa Claus and trying to drive as cautiously as possible to avoid being pulled over by the police for whatever reason, and I was a bit apprehensive about running a gauntlet of seven and eight year-olds with varying degrees of Santa belief. I knew of at least one kid in the class who had recently challenged the veracity of the Jolly Old Elf, and had most likely shared his skepticism with most of his classmates.
Earlier that morning, as I was donning my gay apparel, Josh warned me about a little girl in his class who was still a die-hard believer.
“Hey Dad. Do you remember the girl who lives down the street and over the hill from us? Her name is Jennifer.”
“Sure, I remember Jennifer,” I grunted. I was struggling to snap the fake boot spats over my shoes.
“She still believes in Santa Claus.”
“I’m sure there are still a few kids your age that do,” I said.
“No Dad. She really truly believes in Santa, and I wanted to warn you about her.”
“Warn me about what?” I replied.
“She will bug you to death, Dad! She will probably be hanging on you the whole time you’re there. She’s been talking about this all week, and she’s about to drive everybody crazy!”
“Okay Josh. Thanks for the warning,” I said, “and could you do me a favor during the party?”
“What Dad?”
“Don’t call me Dad, call me Santa please. We don’t want to spoil things for the kids who still think Santa is real, especially Jennifer.”
“Okay Dad. I already tried to talk to her about it and she won’t listen to me anyway.
When I walked into the classroom, the children responded with the excitement that might be expected when Santa walks in the room. Cookies were dropped, punch was spilled and the chatter cut loose. The teacher called the group to order and had them form a line to take turns and spend a few minutes on the big man’s knee to present their Christmas wants.
They were all very well behaved. Most of them seemed to be pretty sincere about their beliefs and expectations. A few, probably Josh’s buddies, showed signs of doubt. Fortunately, no one tried to yank off my beard. The one child who did seem to stand out above the group was little Jennifer.
The little girl was very attentive to Santa. She made sure I had plenty of cookies to eat; she never let my cup run dry of punch, and carried on a seemingly endless line of chatter about Santa’s personal life. What was my favorite food? Did I feed the reindeer myself? What was it like living at the North Pole? What did Mrs. Claus do while I was delivering the presents all over the world. She told me how much she loved me and would never never stop loving me. All the while, Josh was standing nearby, tongue in cheek, eyes slightly rolling.
The children did not seem disappointed at all when their teacher called the class to order to conclude the party. They knew that they were getting just that much closer to the end of the day when class would be dismissed for CHRISTMAS VACATION! They formed a line and exited the room like little duckies, heading towards the next activity for the day. Josh lingered behind of course for reasons of his own.
As the class was leaving, little Jennifer rushed back into the room. I hoped she wasn’t expecting a good-bye kiss from old Santa.
She pointed at Josh and said, “Santa? Do you see that boy standing there?!”
I could only nod.
“His name is Joshua Lash! He doesn’t believe in you! He doesn’t believe in the Easter bunny! He doesn’t believe in the tooth fairy! He doesn’t believe in anything!” Then she turned, and with chin up, indignantly stomped into the hallway. I assumed she expected me to leave a box of dirt for him under the tree on this coming Christmas Eve.
When she was gone, Josh smugly walked over to me, took a seat on my knee, wrapped his arm around my neck and said, “What did I tell you about Jennifer, Dad?”
But Jennifer was wrong. And I can still feel the weight of his arm around my neck.
December 24, 2015
Grampy Lash 