My father looks like MMSWM's, except he would start growing his beard out in August, so it would be at the maximum length he could tolerate, by Christmas.
He achieved local fame when a photographer decided he wanted a picture of Santa before Christmas to serve as a window display. The final photograph is huge, and shows my father sitting by a fireplace, reviewing The List, as my mother leans over his shoulder to read. She is serving him a plate of sugar cookies and a glass of milk. (which is probably a balanced meal at the North Pole).
For years after that, they would do Santa calls. A donation to the American Cancer Society would get you a pre-Christmas visit at your home. They did Santa as a fundraiser for the local hospital. My father is a baby whisperer, and many were the grateful parents who finally got a picture of their beaming tots with Santa. Mom would sit with fearful children and talk with them, and finally coax them into going over to Santa. Dad didn't do the HO HO HO bit, he would talk quietly to the kids, and give them as long as it took before they were ready to come over to him. A lot of the pics were with kids sitting on Mrs. Santa's lap, next to Santa.
They learned that Mrs. Santa looked normal enough that she wasn't scary, but the big boots and red velvet suit, plus the beard, made Santa look very different from other men...and a lot of preschoolers weren't going to have any of THAT.
One Black Friday, we went out to shop, and stopped at a fast food restaurant for lunch. Dad was in his civvies, of course, but the town had announced that Santa would be making an appearance at the parade that afternoon. We were eating, and behind Dad was a pair of women with 2-3 kids each, trying to get their kids fed before the parade. Dad has always been meticulous about record-keeping, and midway though the meal, he thought of something he wanted to write down, and pulled a small notebook from his shirt pocket and started making notes. Behind him, a little boy about 7 suddenly sat up straight, eyes wide, and nudged his sister and pointed at Dad. Suddenly the table quieted down, as the message was spread: He DOES see you, and he DOES make notes!
The best Santa call they made, though, was to friends who lived two doors down from us. Our family, due to travel and jobs that don't allow much time off, has celebrated on the weekend rather than Dec. 25th, for most of my life. So on Christmas Day, my parents would dress up, load up the bag, and walk down to the neighbors' home, to have breakfast with their grandchildren, and hand out all the gifts personally. Can you imagine how impressed you'd be with your grandparents, to find out not only did they know Santa and Mrs. Santa personally, that the Santas would stop at your grandparents' home for breakfast before heading back to the North Pole?
