Thursday, December 24, 2009

Wait ... was Dad a sketchy Santa?

My dad was the neighbourhood Santa.

We had an old-fashioned Santa Claus costume. It was crushed velvet in scarlet red and it came with shiny, black gaiters that draped over his work boots.

Wait a second ... how did we find the costume every year we decorated the house and never catch on that ... oh man! Kids are so naive.

All the StumbleUpon pages are Christmas-based tonight, it seems.

And I find a page dedicated to Sketchy Santas.

There's Santa with his entire face covered in cotton batting:

Santa, scaring the bejeezus out the little kids:

Santa with a plastic face ... and quite possibly, some kind of odour, according to the little girl pinching her nose:

And Santa, who looks like he has a serious hate on for the kid sitting on his lap:

Was my dad a sketchy Santa?

I remember Santa appearing at all the houses in our neighbourhood.

I remember him smelling strangely like my dad - a little bit soaked in rum and a lot bit of tobacco.

And I remember the laughing and giggling, the hugs he got from the other kids on the street and the back slaps he earned from their dads.

So no way was he a Sketchy Santa. He was a Super Santa.

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