Page 92 of Hide and Sneak
“I remember. Santa is here!” he announces. We hired Donna and Milton to play Santa and Mrs. Claus and they’re already in their costumes when they come through the door.
An hour later, the party is in full swing. It’s such an amazing sight, watching my vision for this place come true. All the kids running and playing. Their laughter drawing smiles fromthe parents watching or playing with them. I’m surrounded by happiness.
Sutton and I are chatting with some of the other adults when Milton approaches us in his Santa suit. “Do you know who that boy’s parents are?” he asks, gesturing to Freddie.
Colleen raises her hand. “Oh no. He’s mine. What did he do?”
It’s clear he’s trying not to laugh as he hands over a baggie containing a set of dentures. “I think you’re going to find that a grandparent is missing these.”
Her jaw drops as she accepts them, her cheeks turning red. “Oh my god. We were blaming the nursing home for losing them. Why the hell?—”
“He asked me to give them to the Tooth Fairy for him. He said that should be enough teeth for a new video game. Apparently, he kept them under his pillow for the last few nights, but she never came.”
Everyone cracks up, and Colleen tucks the dentures into her purse. “Thank you. God knows what he plans to bribe the Easter Bunny with.”
Two little girls about three and four years old ride one of the pedal cars past us. One of them turns the wheel and beeps the horn while the other shouts, “Go! Push the gas, asshole!”
“And that would be mine,” one of the dads says, chasing after them.
About thirty minutes before the party is supposed to end, the kids are taken to the rocket room for snacks and story time with Santa and Mrs. Claus. It gives us time to set out the gifts in the main room. Instead of a bunch of toys, we used the donations to buy each kid a new bike. We made sure we had all the ages and asked their favorite color so we could make it special. The littlest ones have tricycles.
We tied a balloon with the child’s name to each of the handle bars. Once story time is finished, I step into the rocket room.“Santa, I don’t want to interrupt but your elves have finished carrying in the gifts. Is it time to open them?”
The kids all turn to him and he waves his white gloved hand. “Well, what are you waiting for? Move your britches!”
A cheer goes up as the kids rush into the main room, followed by their parents.
Sutton leans over so I can hear him over the uproar. “That’s one country ass Santa.”
I’m still laughing when I step up on one of the chairs and hold my hands up until it’s quiet enough to be heard. “Look for your name on the balloon to find your new bike! Merry Christmas everyone!”
The screams and cheers from the kids are deafening as their parents help them find their bikes. Sutton scoops me off the chair and kisses me before setting me on my feet. “Look what you did,” he says, gesturing to all the happy kids.
“It wasn’t just me. The whole community helped pull this off.”
It’s the best kind of chaos as we hand out gift bags of cookies and candy, and help some of them get the bikes into their vehicles. The party is dying down and only about seven or eight kids are left playing while we hang out with their parents. It really couldn’t have gone better.
“I hope I can make this an annual thing,” I remark to Cara. “Thanks so much for all the fundraising you did.”
“Of course! We should absolutely do this every year.”
A sudden shout comes from the rocket room and a boy about ten years old races out. “Mrs. Claus has gone crazy!”
Oh no. What’s going on? I don’t have to wonder long or even go to check. Milton comes running down the hall with Donna hot on his tail. Both are still in costume.
All the kids rush to watch as Mrs. Claus shouts, “Seriously? With that nasty skank?”
She grabs for him but only catches the back of his coat with her fingertips. “I didn’t do nothing with her!” He starts climbing the ladder on the challenge course.
Frustrated, she starts scooping up balls from the ball pit and chucking them at him. She’s got good aim. The sound of one of them bonking off his head echoes, and the kids watching burst out laughing.
She gives up on throwing the harmless balls and climbs up after him. “Looks like Milton cheated again,” Cara says, stepping up beside me.
“Again?” Sutton asks.
“Yeah,” I sigh. “It’s a thing with them.”
Everyone watches as Mrs. Claus chases Santa up to the top of the play structure. Two tunnels cross the top, and Santa dives into the smaller one. Mrs. Claus clambers into the bigger one to get ahead of him.
