Beady-eyed souvenirs

It is a well known fact that my dad hates Santa Claus. HATES. Vigorously!

His theory is that "The Santa Claus Religion" was invented as a diabolical plot to distract people from the true meaning of Christmas. Hmmm...Maybe that's why it bothers him so much when I call it "Santa-mas," or when I pray to Heavenly Santa, or when I gave him that ornament of Santa in a manger a few years back.

I have another working theory that maybe Dad believed in Santa until he was, like, 15 years old or something, and the embarrassment when he found out he'd been duped has haunted him for the rest of his life. It happens to the best of us.

It is a well known fact that knick-knacks give me the heeby-jeebies. And yet, I find myself collecting them here and there, especially if they're hideous. Case in point: this knitted finger puppet made by a nearly-blind lady in La Paz, Bolivia, who probably likes to hear the children shriek in terror.

Sponge Bob Squarepants eats brains

That said, my trip to Africa gave me the chance to add a singularly freaky knick-knack to the collection. Not only is it creeptastic in its 3-dimensional beaded glory, but I think it also sheds some light on the true nature of Santa Claus. For example, Santa has Rastafari dreadlocks for a beard. I bet you didn't know that. He also has crab claws for hands. Fact.

I made friends with Willis, the bead artist who made Santa. He makes a lot of beautiful things, too, like beaded sculptures of African wildlife and sweet little guardian angel charms. He carves impressive tribal figurines from solid rock. He paints.

He laughed when I told him that the little beaded Santa will probably give me nightmares, then he said, "Wait. I show you something really scary, then."

High up on a shelf, tucked safely behind a painting, he keeps the biggest, baddest, knick-knackiest nightmare of all:

As I said before, Merry Christmas, Dad!