There's another man in Barb Heinaman's life.

She showers with him every day.

He dutifully holds her hairspray, napkins, candy, coins, drinks, salt and pepper. She steps on him, rests a spoon on him, cuddles with him and could darn a sock on his head, if she wanted.

She's happily married to her husband, "Pork," but Heinaman loves, loves, loves Santa Claus.

At the holidays, this 72-year-old grandma and great-grandma stuffs her quaint Maytown home with almost too many red-suited, white-bearded Santas to count.

Well, not really.

According to Heinaman's list, which we checked more than twice, she has 2,107 Santas.

That includes:

• 657 in her rec room.

• 259 in her kitchen.

• 104 in her laundry room.

• 63 in her bathroom (including the one on the shower curtain).

• 10 Santa-adorned Christmas trees.

• Four Santa tea sets.

• Three Santa squeaky toys.

• Two Santa bullets.

• And a Santa chili pepper in a Christmas tree.

Heinaman collects Santas for a simple reason.

"Santa Claus brings laughter into the world and everyone needs laughter in their lives," she says.

She started her collection about 10 years ago. She and her husband, whose five grown children live within five miles of them, like to go to flea markets, yard sales and public auctions.

"If they had a Santa Claus, we just bought it," she says, adding they paid probably 50 cents or $1 for most of their finds.

By the time Heinaman retired eight years ago from Wilton Armetale, she realized she had acquired quite a few Santa Clauses. She decided to count them and discovered she had more than 500 squirreled away in her attic, cellar and closets.

"After the kids heard I had over 500, it just escalated," she says, laughing. "And as the years progressed, I've gotten more Santa Clauses and most of my other Christmas decorations went to the side. I just didn't have any room."

She has so many Santas that sometimes she forgets she has one until she pulls it out during her holiday decorating, a process that takes about two weeks.

Her kids have given her so many that her daughter, upon seeing the Santa and Mrs. Claus holding the Hershey bars, said, "Mother, who bought you those?"

"I said, 'Sue! You did! Five years ago!'" Heinaman recalls.

But oddly, when friends give her a gift of a Santa, it's never one she already has. The guy is kind of magical, after all.

Her kitchen is home to all kinds of culinary-themed Santas — cookie jars, knives, plates, mugs and dishes. There's a tree decorated with about 50 baskets holding 67 different Santas.

Her bathroom, naturally, holds the Santa soaps.

There are Santas of every shape and size, ranging from the 8-foot inflatable in her side yard to the tiny plastic guys no bigger than the tip of your thumb on the little red ladder on the kitchen windowsill.

Perhaps you like your Santa active.

Heinaman has Santas on skis and sleds. She has a veritable sea of Santas who dance, sing and shake their booties at the push of the button.

One moving Santa rides a motorcycle, one balances on a scooter, one crawls into an igloo, while, around the corner, another feeds a reindeer. Not one but two spin hula hoops around their ample hips.

There are Santa nesting dolls, Pez dispensers, bells, music boxes, night lights, mobiles, puzzles, games and doorstops. There is a Santa yo-yo. A Santa starfish. Even a Santa with a body made from old Reader's Digests.

Whew.

We need to rest. Let's go sit beside the Santa in her TV room, likely the only bare-footed Santa in the house (but we could be wrong), who sticks those feet into a little tub over and over again while moaning, "Oh my feet, oh my feet," while "Sleigh Bells" plays in the background.

Or perhaps we could go lie down next to the Santa snuggled on the little bed in the rec room.

Heinaman has never met a Santa she didn't like, even the kind of scary-looking one with the wild, straggly beard made from baling twine.

Her most cherished Santa is a fancy one done up in white and purple, her very favorite color. She got him down in South Carolina, which is abbreviated as S.C., which just happens to be someone else's initials. Coincidence? We think not.

'Tis the season for gift-giving and you can probably guess what will be under at least one of Heinaman's trees this year.

"I'm sure there's some coming for Christmas," she says, her eyes lighting up. "There's not a shred of doubt in my mind."

CONTACT US: cstauffer@LNPnews.com or 481-6024