Charlie's Santa

I used to be Santa
At the mall
Every year
Until being around kids
Started giving me hives

When you're Santa
The best part of the job
Is when the job is over

And when the job is over
The best part of the job being over
Is that all the horror stories
Become fun anecdotes
You can tell at parties

Were there sweet moments?

Yeah, there were some sweet moments

But I don't remember those
I just remember the screaming
Crying, whining, kicking, punching
Vomiting little brats
Who made December hell every year

And all for a little over minimum wage

Bah humbug?

You do it
Then tell me
If your Christmas spirit
Holds up

I do have one good story though
And by good, I mean
One that actually makes you feel good
And that story's about Charlie

It's not very long
But it's my favorite

Every time I'm shooting the shit
About being Santa
I tell a few about the naughty kids
And then I tell the one
About Charlie
To sort of leave everybody
Feeling okay

So here's my Charlie story

Two days before Christmas
Line's out the door and around the block

I'm putting kids on the lap
Getting the requests
Taking the photos
And shipping them
Right back out the door

And there's wailing and snot flying everywhere

Kids trying to convince their parents
That they're afraid of me

I never understood why parents
Refused to believe their kids
When they tell them
They're scared of Santa

When you tell somebody you're scared of a snake
They don't make you sit on its lap
And take a picture of it

Anyway, I was right in the middle of my shift
When a kid came up and sat on my lap
And it kinda got quiet
At least in my head

The kid was sort of dirty
And he was just wearing a t-shirt
And some ratty shorts
That looked like a bathing suit

Keep in mind, this was December
And it wasn't a warm December either

I looked over at his mom
And she looked kind of embarrassed
Like she knew the kid was underdressed
And she felt bad about it

You would get those kids from time to time
The less fortunate kids
And no matter how many times you got 'em
It still made you wish
You were the real Santa
Instead of some out-of-work actor
Picking up some quick cash
For the holidays

The kid was polite
Took the photo
Smiled, laughed when I did my lame Santa routine
And then when I asked him
What he wanted
He said--

'I don't really need anything.  I just wanted to meet Santa.'

It was like something
Out a friggin' Hallmark movie

I had to get the kid off my lap
Before Santa cried all over him
Like a wacko

The next kid up was well-dressed
And so was his mother
And he seemed a little more adult-like
Than the last kid

He sort of had an old spirit
Hiding in his eyes

That kid was Charlie

He sat on my lap
Introduced himself
Took the photo
And then when I asked him what he wanted

He looked back at his mom
Then at me
Then leaned in and whispered

'I want you to give that last kid what he wanted.'

You want a Charlie story?

That's my Charlie story