Brown Suit

The neighborhood where Jim grew up always threw a community Christmas party. Complete with Santa. When Jim was 22 they asked him to play the part of Santa. He really didn't want to do it but was eventually persuaded. The plan was that each kid attending would get a gift. That was the plan. Yea, good plan. The parents would secretly bring a gift for their kid and slip into the Santa bag. One gift per kid, we're not talking rocket science here. So the party gets underway. The kids are beside themselves. They are crowding around Jim and pushing and shoving. Jim is doing his best to get through the bag and get out of there. He pulls a gift, calls a name and joy abounds-next! There always has to be one kid who is last, and of course it's the most enthusiastic (=hyper) kid. Jim encountered just such a kid. He was all squished up in the front. Big glasses, orange hair and ....a brown suit. Brown. Not siena or ecru......brown. Some things are just wrong. But alas, cute as a button. He started out pretty patient. But as the bag emptied, he was losing it a little bit. He was totally focused. There are surgeons that got nothing on this kid's level of concentration. Somehow word gets out that brown suit's parents didn't bring a gift. I knew even before it started to unfold that Jim's father is never going to let brown suit be disappointed. He decides to go next door and grab a gift. Word gets to Jim, slow down and stall. By now brown suit is sitting as close to Jim as he can be without actually sharing a blood supply. Less than 2 minutes later Jim's dad came through the door with a wrapped gift. Wrapped. Hmmm. How did he get outside, across the lawn, in the house, carefully choose a gift and wrap it in less than 2 minutes? The youngest person getting gifts in Jim's house was 19, maybe even 20. Brown suit is 7...max. This never crossed anyone's mind. It looked like an Olympic relay. Jim's dad passed the gift to someone, who passed it to someone who passed it to Jim. Right in the bag. No turning back. Nope. Jim comes to the last gift. I can clearly see the relief on Jim's face. Brown suit will not be disappointed. Not by this Santa. Not today. God bless us everyone. Jim pulls out the gift and with a twinkle in his eye, gives the gift to brown suit. Merry Christmas little buddy. Brown suit was in motion. Arms flailing. Ripping at the paper. The sky's the limit. A football?(oh the times I'll have with dad), a fire truck?( just what I always wanted) a telescope ?( oh mama, look at the stars)! All his hopes and dreams wrapped in brightly colored paper. I'm not sure whatI noticed first. The look on Jim's face or the look on brown suit's. Brown suit went with quizzical, confused and than complete bewilderment as he threw the last piece of paper off his case of.....roll on deodorant. Not your basic 2 pack..a full case...a family 10 pack. Old Spice. Brown suit was confused. Jim was going to kill his father. I truly believe time stopped for a couple of seconds. We were just all looking at each other. Brown suit, God love him, made the best out of the situation. He carried around the deodorant. When the other kids showed him their toys, he held it up about waist high, and shrugged his shoulders. The last time I saw brown suit he was rolling the 10 pack around on the carpet making motor noises. Jim eventually talked to his father again, but his Santa days were over.