My dad is Santa.

Last year, not long after finding out he was going to be a grandpa, my dad bought a Santa suit. Jacket, pants, hat, beard, belt...the whole deal. Unfortunately the Christmas blizzard of 2009 kept him in Minnesota when the grandson arrived a few days early so he had to think of other ways to get his money's with out of that red velvet costume. On Christmas eve he suited up and made trips to all of our family friends' houses where kids {or grand kids} were celebrating. Four houses got visits from Santa and most of the adults had no idea who was hiding under that beard. One 85 year old great grandma insisted on sitting on Santa's lap for a picture even though she had no idea who it was.

This year Santa got a letter from a 5 year old, addressed to him at his Minnesota address inviting him back again on Christmas eve. He takes his job verrrrry seriously and decided to up the ante by buying some white eyebrow paint to look "more authentic."

In other news, my mom...I mean Mrs. Claus, got an iPhone and since I was at my house banished to the couch with the Christmas Crud, she was in charge of getting a picture of Santa. I got a text message that said, "I don't know how to take a picture. I think I took a video?"

"A" for effort, Mom.