The Giant Father Christmas

The first Christmas our daughter was in her Reception year at school, they hired a hall for the Christmas party. All the parents turned up to escort the little ones on the short journey, and we arrived to a room full of balloons and decorations. The afternoon began with games, then there was cake and jelly, and this left just the present giving from Father Christmas himself.

There was only one male teacher and luckily he was absolutely perfect for the job. He was about 5 foot 4 inches tall, as round as he was tall, wore his own round steel rimmed glasses and he'd bought his own suit... it wasn't his first time! However, as the time approached there was a concerned murmur throughout the teachers that the children would be sure to know that it was him. This was when the request was made.

Would any of the Dads be prepared to be Father Christmas?

Four Dads had made it to the hall, and there was a lot of foot shuffling and looking the other way, so as always the serial volunteer, my husband, put his hand up. He was hurriedly escorted to a little room along the corridor and unceremoniously pushed inside with instructions to get the suit on as quick as he could. I stood outside to keep guard in case any rogue children got overly inquisitive.

The children themselves were lining up in the hall in front of a child size chair with a huge sack of presents beside it, waiting for the man himself to hand them out. One of the teachers called along the corridor for me to hurry him up, so I stuck my thumb up and tapped the door.

"How's it going?"

"It doesn't fit very well!"

"It doesn't matter, you'll look fine, just hurry they're all waiting for you."

The door slowly opened, and there he stood... all 6 foot 2 inches of him in a 5 foot 4 inch Father Christmas costume.

"How do I look?"

What could I say, there was no going back, and he did have the costume on.

"You look great, now go quickly everyone's waiting for you!"

I stood and watched, a little like you watch a car crash, as the Giant Father Christmas went running down the corridor, his little red trousers flapping around his shins.

I headed to the main hall, and there he was, knees up by his chest wedged into the tiny chair yo-ho-hoing and handing out presents like he'd been born to be Father Christmas with happy children filing by, smiles all over their faces. I couldn't have loved him more.

Our daughter was a little quiet when we got home, and unusually didn't mention anything about the day until I took her up to bed, whereupon she looked me deep in the eyes and asked me to promise her something.

"Of course what is it?"

"Don't EVER let Dad be Father Christmas again... he looked ridiculous!"

***

To everyone
I hope you all have a really Wonderful Christmas  xxx