What I love about Christmas is remembering what it felt like to believe in Santa. Of course if I believed Santa ever looked like any of these guys, I would have hid under my bed till New Years. The girl in me still likes Santa, but now with a twist and it has been fun rescuing these guys from flea markets. The last photos is a postcard, the others all gather together on shelves with other tacky offerings of Christmas past. There are dozens of cute little fellows that didn't make the ugly Santa cut and one much scarier guy, that my adult children were too frightened to let me bring out of the storage bin. My dear friend, SteveMeeple, thinks his Santas are uglier than mine, but nope, not even close.
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