A little Santa in us all

Santa-morphisis
From December 24, 2001

Yesterday, Mom comments: “Oh no, you’re not wearing that damn thing again, are you?”

Today when Santa walked into her room at Plantation South to pick her up for our annual party, Oh, no, not again. In the car: Why are you wearing that suit again.

What else would Santa wear on Christmas Eve? Besides, don’t forget, you’re my mother; you’re the one who got me into believing in Santa in the first place.

“You didn’t even notice my new hairdo,” she said. Oh yeah, it looks nice, Mom.

“When are you going to stop wearing that outfit?” It’s Christmas. Don’t you like me in my Santa suit?

“I just want to see you in normal clothes. You’re embarrassing me.”

Santa has baggage, a sack full of gifts. People shouldn’t take them elves so seriously. Santa has a mother and father, sisters and brothers, like anybody else.

From my friend, Mark:

Thanks to the Sicilian Santa for spreading Sopranos-like holiday good
cheer to all of us! Shane won't stop talking about Santa Claus and his
personalized visit to "Shane's house." In all seriousness, it meant so much to Lisa and me to get all you guys together and catch up with everyone. We need to do more of that going forward. Again, appreciate everyone's taking the time out during the holidays to get together with us -- it meant a lot.

--Mark

Dear Mark,

We're all Santa. Thanks for the kind note.

I played golf today, 24 holes, in the Santa rig; played pretty well. The suit made me swing within myself, I guess. Some creep hit into us on the 11th hole and I tossed his ball into the woods. Bad Santa.

Love, SC