Santa’s Yelpers : First Encounters Bring Tears and Wiggles--and Some Hefty Tugs on Beard

I’m a subordinate Claus.

That’s the reason I didn’t cry out a warning Wednesday night at the Carson Mall when a squalling, squirming 1-year-old named Michael nearly yanked my beard off my face.

I couldn’t. My mouth was taped shut, thanks to an edict by Mrs. Claus.

As it was, Michael was doing enough crying for both him and Santa as he flailed about in my lap, determined to wiggle free of my white-gloved grip. His mother, on the other hand, was determined to document his first encounter with Santa Claus with a photograph, no matter what it took.

This wasn’t the first time that a kid had pulled on my beard, of course.

When it happened two weeks ago during my first outing as a shopping center Santa, I’d decided to shave off my real-life mustache. I reasoned that the two-sided adhesive tape fastening the snowy white Santa beard beneath my nose would stick better without it.

But Mrs. Claus reined me in when she read that in the paper. She recalled what Santa looked like 20 years ago without the mustache. And wise St. Nick recalled how frosty things can get at the North Pole when Mrs. Claus is unhappy.

So I kept my mustache. And on Wednesday I applied an extra layer of two-sided tape to it in hopes of anchoring the beard during my six-hour Santa shift in Carson.

When Michael grabbed his tiny handful of beard and pulled, it ripped the tape loose and deposited it across my mouth. I was speechless.

As soon as the picture was finally snapped, I mumbled an apology to Santa’s helpers and dashed for the mall dressing room to make repairs. Then I hurried back to Santa’s throne in the mall’s center court toyland so as not to disappoint any waiting kids.

It turned out there was little danger of that.

Waiting in line were 3-year-old Raquel Coleman, along with her twin sister, Rachel, and their 8-year-old sister, Tiari.

Tiari said she is hoping that Santa brings her a toy doll that wets its pants. Rachel explained that she also wanted a doll from Santa. Raquel explained she wanted out of Santa’s lap. She did her explaining by bawling uncontrollably.

When it was 2-year-old Jo Jo Rivera’s turn on my knee, he took one wide-eyed look at Santa and did the same thing.

Reymundo Acosta, 1 1/2, was glum-faced but quiet when he joined his sister Reyna Reyleen, 4, in Santa’s lap.

Santa stand photographer Tara Rostrack squeezed a pink squeak toy and waved the end of her red stocking cap to coax Reymundo into smiling for their picture. That’s when Santa made his big mistake. He suggested that Reymundo say “cheese!” for the camera.

That prompted Reymundo to turn and notice for the first time who was holding him. One glimpse was enough to start him crying. Each time I said something to try to soothe him, he turned and looked again and screamed louder.

Reymundo finally grabbed the arm of Santa’s large wooden throne and tried to pull himself free of my grasp. Reyna sat primly through my ordeal. Before leaving my knee, she shyly whispered that she hoped Santa would bring her a P.J. Sparkle doll on Christmas Eve.

As my shift wore on, I lost track of the time--and the tears.

During the few lulls in Wednesday evening’s Santa stand activity, I stood up and walked around the mall’s center court, greeting children who were passing through with their parents.

It was there that I discovered how territorial youngsters can be. Several children riding in strollers shyly grinned and waved at me from a distance. But when Santa stepped closer than about six feet, their lips began quivering and their eyes began welling up. But when I stepped back and waved again, they waved back.

Most parents are not perturbed when kids cry on Santa’s knee, said Annie Lowitt, a Western Temporary Services manager in charge of the Carson Mall’s Santa stand.

“Kids under 2 are often afraid,” she said. “Think of it this way. A mother would normally never force their child to sit on a stranger’s lap. But with Santa, they do. When children cry, parents will say, go ahead and take the picture.”

Not every close encounter of the crying kind Wednesday night ended on a teary note, however.

When 14-month-old Julian Rush was placed on my knee for a picture, he took one look at my beard and began sobbing. His sister, Jessica, 5, helped calm him and coax him into a smile for their picture.

After that, Julian laughed good-naturedly and ran his fingers through the beard.

And after he and Jessica left my center court toyland, the toddler turned and ran back to see me again. Twice.