I Play Fake Santa & Survive

So, last week I was asked/told by a friend of ours that I would be playing “Santa” at her family’s holiday party.

“I talked to your wife and we both agreed you’d be terrific playing Santa at my family’s holiday party. You’ll be so good and the kids will love it. I’ll bring the suit by your house so you can make sure it fits. You’re the best, thank you!”

That’s pretty much how the conversation went as she hopped in her car and drove away.

A day later I tried the suit on and scared the ever-loving-shit out of my kids by walking downstairs sporting the Santa threads.

I then carefully broke it to them that I was to play Santa at a party this weekend and they have to be super secretive about it.

Reluctantly they agreed.

Party day arrives. We cruise into the shindig. The wife is scanning the room for a coat room while I’m in desperate search of anything with alcohol in it.

A few glasses of wine later it’s Santa time! 

I head down to a 1950s tiny little backroom bathroom to make my epic transformation. I ask the wife to come with me so she can give me final touches.

And, of course the daughter comes with us because she’s attached to the wife at the hip.

I’m fairly confident our daughter is scarred for life after watching her daddy slowly turn into the Christmas fat guy.

But she did a good job documenting everything on camera.

Like…me putting my fake boot cover thingies on.

The wife giving me a final prep.

And the scarring picture of all…mommy kissing Santa!

And finally!!! I was ready. (side note…the wife took this picture, not my daughter so please don’t come after me with a pitchfork.)

I bust-up to the scene and the kids are actually buying it!! No one’s kicking me in the shin or farting on my knee.

It all goes kinda well.

Even both my kids fake it really well!

Afterwards the boy informed me that when he was sitting on my lap and put his arm behind me “your back was really sweaty and gross.”

If that’s the worst thing that happened….I’ll take it.

Will I ever play Santa again? Hell no…but I’m glad I did it. At least my daughter was the only child traumatized from the entire event.