One of the greatest joys of Christmas in our family is that my husband, Hank, is Santa Claus.
Every August for the last six years, he quits shaving so he’ll have a full, white beard in December and can play the role of Santa for our three grandchildren – Tilleigh, 10, Evie, 6, and William, 4 (our fourth grandchild is due in two weeks).
It started on Tilleigh’s fifth birthday on Dec. 18, 2011. “Santa” was the surprise guest at her birthday party. Everyone, especially Tilleigh, was thrilled. Donned in his telltale red outfit and hat, Santa talked to every child at the party and handed out goody bags.
It was the next year that Tilleigh recognized similar traits in Santa Claus and her grandfather (they call him “Boo”). When she told us that she thought Santa was Boo, I told my trusting grandchild the truth – Santa handpicked her grandfather to be one of his helpers. He sent Rudolph and the other eight reindeer to our house one cold winter night and flew Boo to the North Pole where, within a few hours, he was trained as an official Santa’s helper. He was given a Santa suit and took the Santa oath before the reindeer delivered him safely back home.
It was last year that Evie, now 6, figured out that Santa was Boo, who’s a lawyer in real life.