For about 3 years we have been telling the kids that Paul Dorpat is Santa Claus. For a long time, all we knew was that Paul Dorpat was this guy who walked around our neighborhood and took photos of the houses, including our house, on a regular basis. Same house, taken from the same spot in front of the house, around the same time of day. But, the guy looks exactly like Santa Claus, only he wears chinos, a tackle/photographers vest, and kind of a hippie hat. So, naturally, we told the kids that this guy was Santa Claus. And we told them that he roams the neighborhood throughout the year taking photos of the houses with kids and logs them as good kids or naughty kids so he knows which houses to skip on Christmas. They fell for it right away. Why wouldn’t they? It completely makes sense.
When we bump in to him on the street, they call him “Santa”. He doesn’t really play along. Once he even said, “I’m Paul”, but I can make up lots of good reasons why he wants to be incognito on his mission to catalog good vs naughty, and the kids believe every word I say.
You can read all about Mr. Dorpat by clicking on his name, that is a really nice article about him in the Seattle Times. You can also read his blog for lots of great historical information on Seattle and Seattle’s neighborhoods. Anyhow, the guy simply looks like Santa Claus and we think he is really cool.
Earlier in the week we went to a night of readings and songs by Mr. D and some other locals who had great story telling voices and a lot of character. Steve and I really would have enjoyed the evening….if we had left the kids at home, safely tied to their beds, under Eddy the Dog’s watchful eye.
Minutes after the show started, in an old echoing chapel at the Meridian School, I hear this “pop pop pop” noise come from my left. I looked over at Steve who whispered, “Niamh just farted.” It was like a machine gun. Then, Finn, who was sitting on my lap, did the same thing! I was so embarrassed, but couldn’t stop shaking with laughter. Finn also gave me a good display of other reasons not to bring a 4 year old (almost 4), to such a show. He played with the brand new velcro on his jacket that made a loud ripping noise over and over. He made bubble noises with his lips. And he continuously asked me questions about where Santa (Paul) parked the reindeer while he was here? How was Santa going to get to the reindeer at the end of the show? And, could we go outside and try to look for the reindeer on the roof? Eventually, Steve and I let the 2 of them lay in the aisle on their tummies at the back of the room. There they lay, side by side, continuing with their flatulence, and not caring at all.
We left at intermission.
I sent this email to Paul that night. Paul, Thanks for the evening, though shortened by our flatulent children with short attention spans. We’ll try it again next year!
Happy Holidays to You. The Westovers Steve, Fiona, Niamh, and Finn
I really liked his reply. Very funny Fiona. I think some of us on stage were periodically flatulent as well. Thanks for trying Fiona. You deserve a Flatulence Refund.