I'd Better Not Pout

We had only been dating two months when it became obvious to me Hubby-to-be had a Problem. It was evident the moment I stepped into his living room in Orchard Park, shortly after Thanksgiving. It was not a small problem. It was Everywhere. The question was, should I continue dating him, or should I get him some help? You see, there was simply no hiding the fact that he is Santa-Obsessed. And his family was enabling him, purchasing ever more exotic Santas with each passing year. They were helping him to feed his frenzy. It was obvious he was not going to admit to his problem. He pretends to this day that "others" are simply "Santa-deprived," or "Not In Touch With Their Inner Santa," or possibly, "In Denial About Their Deep-Seated Santa Urges." So I really had no hope of changing him. And really, why should I want to change someone who derives such joy from the Christmas season, when so many of us in the world are jaded, cynical and tired of shopping? He has Santas from every country (not sure about Myanmar, though) and historical Santas through the ages. We have golfing Santa, medical Santa, baseball Santa...I'm sure you can envision the variety. To date I have not noticed Iraqi Insurgent Santa, Space Alien Santa or Animal Rights Santa. This last I believe we will never see, as obviously there is the ongoing issue of the Enslavement of the Reindeer. For most of the year the Santas all live upstairs in a specially designated Christmas Attic that is separate from our Regular Attic. Hubby released them all recently, so now they have taken up positions in our living room and dining room. Last year they engulfed the piano, looking like the Santa Tabernacle Choir with facial hair. This year he bought them a special table so they would not be overcrowded since they are competing with nutcrackers, Christmas villages and trains. You are probably wondering, when is he going to hit Rock Bottom? Admit he has a problem and ask others to intervene to help solve the Santa Problem? The answer is never. You see this is only a problem for people who don't "get" Santa. It is not a problem for Hubby, and while I am in awe over his collection and devotion to it, it is not a problem for me. It is part of who Hubby is. Santa is a warm and fuzzy extension of the central religious meaning of Christmas (he is not nicknamed "St. Nick" for advertising purposes), and that is what we are celebrating. Little do the children know that Hubby IS Santa, for them, anyway, and I wouldn't want it any other way. I love Santa.