Yes Jiminy There Isn't a Santa Claus

The fake Santa Claus jostled into place the loose bed pillows underneath his bright red borrowed suit. With his body perspiring in the thick costume, he waddled into a fourth grade elementary school classroom yelping a round of his best ho-ho-ho’s. The elementary school children responded favorably with surprise and adulation. Twenty-four hours earlier, the fun-loving man playing iconic Santa Claus provided custodial care by wielding a wet mop in this same classroom.

In on the ruse, the teacher welcomed Santa Claus with Season’s Greetings.

“Merry Christmas!” shouted Santa Claus to Jewish and Gentile children alike.

The man playing Santa Claus had a pinch too much entertainer in him for perhaps even the Macy’s Thanksgiving parade. He moved around the classroom greeting kids. Santa danced as if he had bells on his feet. He soon waddled to an aisle seat to his left. Santa stopped at a desk of his choosing hoping that his deliberate actions appeared random. Praying that his full white beard would not wardrobe malfunction, Santa hunched his upper body towards a sheepish student.

“Have you been a good boy?”

With all of the yelling, Santa’s voice sounded hoarse by now. This aided not only his disguise but concealed his identity. The male student, however, appeared shy about receiving individual attention. He squirmed in his seat and said nothing.

Good Ole Saint Nick needled him. “Santa thinks you have been naughty this year. I hope it isn’t going to be a lean Christmas for you.”

About this time, the boy’s eyes met Santa Claus’s eyes. Between the two sets of almond pupils bore a trace of familiarity. The boy searched for the gift of right words.

Another classmate broke-up the holiday cheer. “Jim, that’s your brother, stupid! You know, the school custodian.”