I’m a young Santa. Maybe the youngest realbeard Santa in the world. And I love this gig.

There are a lot of benefits to being a young Santa. For one, I can still hop, skip, and jump around like a jolly old elf. Not all Santas are so lucky. I saw a Santa at the “dirt mall” in town who rolls into his North Pole on a Rascal scooter. Damn. During the Santa Claus parade in that mall, Santa had to re-route to the elevator because he couldn’t use the escalator–how magical is that? Shouldn’t a guy who’s able to travel around the whole world in one night be able to travel up and down an escalator? I think Santa should have magical characteristics, and shouldn’t have to take a break during his shift to check his blood sugar and re-wrap his gout affected legs. Gross. In my eyes, that’s a prime example of a Coca-Cola sponsored #DiabeticSanta. I prefer to think of myself as a #HipsterSanta sponsored by the Heart and Stroke Foundation.

Along with being a young Santa, I’m also a new father. I’ve got a 7 month old baby who is the most adorable kid in the entire world, in my unbiased opinion. So when parents bring an infant for a photo with Santa, and they seem nervous about putting their precious new child into the arms of a stranger, I tell them, “It’s actually a little known fact that Santa has a 7-month old baby at home in the North Pole.” This seems to put parents’ minds at ease. Added benefits of having a new baby at home are that I’ve learned many new ways to hold a baby, and have also gotten quite good at guessing kids’ ages–parents seem to appreciate this skill. Or they get a kick out it when I guess terribly wrong.

Last week my wife, daughter, and I were having a sick day. I’d brought home a nasty cough from my Santa gig at the mall. I suppose it’s to be expected after interacting with hundreds of germy kids every day, an occupational Santa hazard. I’ve decided there’s no point in getting vaccinations this year; I reckon I’ll be fully inoculated to most illness after exposure to thousands of kids this Christmas season. But anyway, with my wife, daughter, and I feeling ill, we had a movie day in the basement and watched Frozen. It’s the biggest kids movie of the year, and every single kid has seen it. I’ve since used my knowledge of Elsa, Anna, Kristoff, Olaf, and Sven to successfully ingratiate myself to kids. I simply mention that Olaf’s cousin lives at the North Pole with me, Mrs. Claus, and the Elves and kids are instantly more interested in listening to me. Or I tell ’em I’m planning to ask Elsa to build an ice workshop for me. I’ve found that shared familiarity breeds rapport and respect.

Each interaction I have with kids, I try to create what my shrink calls “extraordinary space.” There’s a sense of magic in the air that’s palpable as I connect with kids. I studied psychology in university and learned some counselling techniques, and I use these in every Santa encounter. The counselling technique I employ most often is an acronym, SOLAR. Here’s how it works: I Square up with the kid, adopt an Open posture, Lean in to listen, Aim my attention toward child, and maybe most importantly, Relax. This technique allows for a kid-centric Santa encounter in which the rest of the world seems to drop away and the child feels like the most special person in the world as Santa focuses his whole attention on the kid.

My mom came to a Christmas market where I was appearing as Santa. I imagine it was kind of a weird experience for her to see her thirty-three year old son in full Santa Claus regalia. Afterwards, she told me it was amazing to see how I focus closely on each kid, making them feel like they are the most important person in the world–I told her that in that moment, that is what they are to me.

Have I mentioned that I love this gig?