In a column a couple of weeks ago I described how a veterinarian should do the job of a veterinarian and not try to stray out of their area of expertise … like repairing my own appliances. I think the same could be said of playing the role of Santa. When my neighbour appeared on our door a couple of days before Christmas and told me I would make a perfect Santa for her kids I wasn't sure if she meant because I was old and fat or if I was fun and good with kids. I decided to take it as a compliment and agreed.
It was a very nice Santa outfit and the plan was for me to visit on Christmas eve and give pajamas and tell them to sleep well as Christmas was the next day. I made sure to get the names straight and who got what. I knew the outfit would be hot but I decided I should get dressed early to make sure it fit right. The big decision was whether I needed to add a pillow to my belly or not and fortunately I needed .
After donning the entire wig, beard hat and outfit I looked proudly in the mirror and one thing stood out … despite my gray hair, my eyebrows are still very dark. I had a white wig from halloween and decided to make my own new white eyebrows. I trimmed several of the hairs on the wig and looked around the house for something to glue them on. I found some rubber cement glue and ran a thin layer through my eyebrows and tapped in enough white hair to make them look authentic. They seemed a bit too busy so I began to trim some away until I saw dark hair clippings also landing in the skin indicating I may have gone a bit too far in some area.
As I was about to head over to their house, the smell of the rubber cement glue seemed too much and I didn't want the kids complaining that Santa smelled like chemicals so I sprayed myself with a liberal amount of cologne and walked over ringing my Santa bell as I climbed their stairs. Santa's chair was all set up and I sat down as the first young son sat on my knee.
I don't know if I was sweating, or if it was a chemical reaction of the cologne with the glue, but the glue started to melt and slowly drip down into my eyes. My natural impulse was to scream in pain and rub the burning chemicals off my face but the thoughts of the wig and beard flying off and the kids seeing Santa as a fake worried me that I might scar them forever. After the third child asked for a horse and I had to scramble to think of what to say, I knew I could make a retreat and headed back down the stairs ringing my bell.
In case the kids were watching out of the window I decided to continue ho-ho-ho-ing and ringing my bell as I walked down the street instead of straight across and into my house. The cold air felt good on my burning eyes and at first I felt silly as Santa and wondered what a vet was doing in a Santa suit. However, as I walked down the street and rang my bell neighbour after neighbour came to their window and gazed out at me. A few even opened their windows and waved and said 'Hi Santa' as I went by. Although I am a veterinarian and should definitely not quit my day job as I walked down the street that night ringing my bell, I WAS SANTA.
