For 11 and a half months of the year our kids talk about
Santa Claus as if he’s their best friend. They draw pictures of him. They write
letters to him. They sing songs celebrating his arrival. They even discuss the
assortment of cookies they plan to leave for him on Christmas Eve, which is
hard to believe considering the only cookies they’ve ever left for me are
half-eaten ones that fell on the floor.1
So it makes no sense to me as to why, when given the
opportunity to have their picture taken with Santa—a guy who leaves them
presents of dollhouses, ipods, video games and more (no questions asked)—they
cry and scream as if he murdered their puppy. (Which is odd because we don’t
even have a puppy!2)
Every year we are fortunate to be invited to an event called
“Breakfast with Santa,” thanks to our good friends (and realtors) at Coldwell
Banker. This Christmas celebration has three of my favorite things:
Donuts (awesome!), a magician (double awesome!) and a person who makes balloon
animals (it’s like I’m in heaven!). For two hours I load up on sugar and
entertainment, right alongside my kids, and hope that this glorious day never
ends. That’s when Santa finally makes his entrance and my wife utters those
same 14 words that always ruin my day:
“For the last time Brian, you cannot quit your job and
become a magician.”
From a distance, my daughters all seem to be pleased that Santa has arrived. They clap like all the other kids. They even get in line to see Santa, smiling and laughing and telling us what they plan to ask for. Then it happens.
“OK, it’s our turn. Go sit on Santa’s lap.”
Suddenly they turn ghost white and look petrified, as if we
had asked them to walk away with an axe murderer or, worse, a Cubs fan. They
start screaming, “No Daddy! No Mommy! I don’t want to sit on Santa’s lap!!!”
They grip onto my legs tighter than a pair of spandex, hiding their heads in
the back of my knees and making it impossible for me to walk. I can only hope that, years from now, they have the same kind of reaction when boys ask them on dates.
As I try to pry them off, their grip only gets tighter. I
make a reasonable case to them as to why they should sit on Santa’s lap (“I
will give you all the candy you want!”) but that effort falls flat, mainly
because evil creatures also known as “grandparents” have already been sneaking
them candy all morning.
“I don’t like Ho Ho,” said my youngest, who only calls Santa
that when she’s scared of him. Terrified tears come racing out of her eyes to
match those of her 4-year-old sister, who isn’t a fan of the
up-close-and-personal Ho Ho either. My eldest wasn’t crying, but the idea of
sitting on some stranger’s lap didn’t really entice her either.
So I grabbed the kids and said, “HUDDLE UP!” I pulled them
together like a quarterback pulls together his team when motivating them to
push past their insecurities and help make the game-winning drive.
“Listen, your mom just wants one picture. ONE PICTURE! You
don’t have to look at Santa. You don’t have to say anything to Santa. You don’t
have to sit on his lap or even acknowledge the fact that came all the way from
the North Pole to Ohio, which I'm sure had at least two layovers, just for you to ignore him. All you have to do is stand
to the side of him and smile at the camera for ONE PICTURE. Can you guys do
that for me?”
After hearing how important this was to me and how reasonable deal this deal was, all three of
them nodded in agreement with a resounding, “NO!”
“Whoever stands next to Santa and lets mom take a picture
gets to play Candy Crush on the iPad when we get home.”
And that’s the story of how we finally got the girls to take
our annual photo with Ho Ho.
1 And the answer to your question is
yes, I still ate them.
2 Though if we did, I’d like to think
that we’d name him Zach Morris.
ORDER NOW (GREAT GIFT FOR PARENTS): Oh Boy, You're Having a Girl
(A Dad's Survival Guide to Raising Daughters)
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10 comments:
This is a such a great,laughable story. It brought back such memories of Santa picture taking moments that I teared up and laughed at the same time. Thank you Brian! Loved it!!!
This is a such a great,laughable story. It brought back such memories of Santa picture taking moments that I teared up and laughed at the same time. Thank you Brian! Loved it!!!
It's because they know it's a fake. "You sit on a throne of lies!"
I love it! I can so relate. I oly have one picture of my (petrified) daughter with Santa. But she's not sitting on his lap -- she's crying with her face buried into my legs and Santa is standing behind her, trying to comfort her.
Love this! It's heartbreaking, all the screaming and crying, and fussing and kicking...and I'm just talking about when us Dads get told we can't be magicians!
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