The Man With The Bag

We went to see Santa.

The first year I took Nick to see Santa, he sat on his lap for exactly three terrified seconds - long enough for the lady to snap his picture - and then cried when I wouldn't let him play with one of the teddy bears they had around Santa's Lair as decoration.

The next year he flatly refused to go.

And last year I got both Nick and Nate to go.

Why do I do this? Why does ANY parent do this? No three year old decides she wants to walk up to Santa and sit on his lap and discuss her behavior and how much she deserves a pony or a Bratz doll. No. A three year old takes one look at Santa and his long white beard, remembers all those songs about how famous he is, and turns around to walk the other way. So what is the point? Why do parents think that taking the time to haul out to the mall, stand in line, and force their child to interact with a scary red guy is a good idea? I will never know.

When we showed up to visit Santa, a boy was crying because he was so frightened, and we had to wait until his mother calmed him down enough to get a good picture. The next little girl didn't cry, but she planted her feet and refused to go into the little - er - den, where Santa keeps his big visiting chair. She also refused to turn around and face the camera, because apparently Santa is scary, and if she turns her back he might bite her.

I was worried about my kids. Because they are all different, and each one might decide at any given moment that the visit wasn't a good idea. I saw crying, tantrums, frightened clinging to my person, and small bodies flinging themselves on the floor. Not to mention the destruction Andy would do to Santa's decorations.

Well, the boys walked right up to Santa and started talking. They told him what they wanted for Christmas and smiled. Except for Andy, no one showed any hesitancy at all. And even Andy was able to sit on the little chair and pose for a picture. You can't see me, but I'm hiding off stage left because Andy kept wanting to get up and take down the decorations.

As we left, the little boy in line behind us began to cry.

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