Today we had a Primary Christmas breakfast. When the breakfast was in its planning stages, I talked Christian into being Santa Claus. I promised him that I would stay by his side and make sure his beard stayed on, no kids poked him in the eye, etc. We were off to a good start when someone asked me a question and I went to find out the answer. As I often do, I got distracted and started taking care of a few other things. By the time I got back, I had this thought in the back of my head, "I wonder why Christian's shoulders are almost touching his ears. That's funny." I wandered back to his side where he desperately said something along the lines of, "Ho, ho, ho Sister Kelsey. Santa needs your help." He finally got it across to me that his beard was half way down his chin. I went to pull the elastic up and over his ear when I realized there was a piece of half eaten candy cane stickily stuck to his ear. At that moment two thoughts came to my mind. The first was that my husband's plight seemed to be paralleling that of Andy Bernard's, a nice guy stranded in a fat suit with no one around to help. The other thought was that I sure am a lucky lady because my husband will do just about anything for me. What a great guy!


Christian makes a most excellent Santa.
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