Can I just take a moment to tell you how much I want to see Santa this year? Almost as much as I want to be held down and have bamboo sticks forced under my fingernails.
So far, every year, I wait too long and then I drag my child/ren to the mall and stand in a 45+ minute line with a bunch of whiny brats and their rude pushy parents, wondering why the hell Santa is taking so long and excited for Big Kid to have his magical Christmas moment. Then we FINALLY get up there, after prompting, quizzing, prepping and threatening Big Kid for nearly an hour, and I shove him towards the jolly old soul only for him to A) Scream B) Run C) Hide.
EVERY SINGLE YEAR.
It's the same Santa who is there every year, some nice old guy with a beard and longish hair and the whole nine yards. He's got a hare lip, so he kind of looks like a mix between the Easter Bunny and Santa and is a little creepy looking, so I do understand the fear some kids have.
One year we forced Big Kid to sit there and used the photo of him writhing in Santa's lap, screaming in open mouthed terror, tears on his face and gum on the sole of his shoe, for our Christmas card. Most people thought it was funny and there were only a couple of child abuse allegations as a result.
So why do it this year? Because knowing little kid he'll hug Santa tightly and snuggle into his lap for giggling and cuddles and cooing and Big Kid SWEARS that he's ready this time, that this is his year. The photographer in me is pining for that elusive photo of both kids looking at the camera and smiling, happy together on Santa's lap. Oh, and the mommy guilt. If they don't see Santa, my children will grow up to be serial killers, or even worse, they'll think I was a terrible mother.
However, could someone please tell me how this guy flies around the world in a reindeer powered vehicle delivering gifts to millions of kids over the course of one night, but he can't take appointments? Or at least get those little flashing coaster/pager things restaurants use to tell you when your table is ready and hand those out?
Because trust me, only assholes wait until this close to Christmas to take their kids to see Santa, and I'm really not in the mood to deal with such idiots. Or my kids. I'm not ready to deal with them in the confined space of a line for almost an hour.
Why do I do this to myself?