Bah Humbug!
I have no problem with mall Santas. I just don’t like to have one sprung on me when I’m not prepared.
The other day, I wanted to race in to pick up some hand soap and there he was. Being mauled in the centre of an enormous, frenzied line-up, strange suit fifty lbs heavier than last week’s guy. Did I want to spend $13.75 for a picture? Why, so the kids can line them up from year to year and really get to know their guys? Hanna is working on symmetry in her grade three math class. Don’t you think she might notice some fairly obvious inconsistencies?
“What do you want for Christmas little girl?”
They better say something I’ve already got because I’m DONE shopping. No surprises. He also better not promise to deliver on whatever they come up with (like Hanna asking for an airplane three years ago on Christmas Eve, the one and ONLY time she mentioned it) while nervously leaning in the direction of his bowl of smashed candy canes but at no time making any meaningful contact.
My kids are wondering why I’m ushering them by so we can get to our movie. Why when this guy is the be all and end all. The one person, the enigma, the one and only who sees all, promises great things and judges us all year. You’re telling me the Muppets are more important than standing in line for 20 minutes to meet this person and butter him up a little?
How about the song, “I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus” we heard on several radio stations in the car. Do we see how disturbing this might be for a child now that they’ve witnessed and smelled him first hand? I’m not saying the guy in the suit has personal hygiene issues. I am however suggesting his suit ranging in colour from fluorescent cranberry to scab purple is ripe for a cleaning.
