Pessimistic Optimism

Life as I see it… sort of.

Santa Fears … (part two)

The clown advised me that the kids needed to be four to receive balloons so she had to hand the “poodle” and “Snoopy” to me instead of my little girl’s outstretched arms in case the balloon animal police were watching.  Her look of disappointment returned while we fought our way through the growing mob of children, but it disappeared immediately after I presented the “poodle” to her.  I thought that it looked more like a disfigured duck with a strange appendage pointing out its backside (it was supposed to be the tail).

My son loved “Snoopy”, except that he thought it would float like most balloons he ever played with.  He either doesn’t catch on quickly or he was messing with me because he continuously let go of it and expected it to go up instead of down.

Santa arrived in a fire truck instead of his sleigh and he was without his usual supporting cast, not even an elf.  The lack of elves was a good thing because I don’t trust the little bastards.  They’re too happy for sweat shop employees so they must be up to something.

Santa called the kids up to receive their presents by age; the youngest to the oldest.  This meant that our boy was in the beginning.  I wanted him to look good for the photo so I licked my hand and matted down his hair and got the boogars out of his nose.  He looked great when his name was called… until I deposited him on Santa’s lap.  His eyes welled up and he screamed out baby profanities.  He looked to me for reassurance and I told him to smile.  He reached for me and I told him to smile.  I wasn’t taking him back until the photographer took the damn picture.  He took the shot and looked at me as if to say, one per customer, pal, so I reluctantly took the little screamer back and carried him and his present back to his Mommy.

He opened his gift and became happy again.  Ecstatic might be a better word.  Santa knew what this boy likes, cars.  He received eight metal cars.  The nice thing about them is that they can easily become weapons if he gets bored with pushing them around.

His big sister was called a little while later and decided to walk onto the stage by herself because she’s a big girl, just ask her.  She sat on the man in the red velvet’s lap without hesitation and sort of smiled for the camera.  It was a rather uneventful follow up to her brother’s act.

My daughter wore this beautiful red Christmas dress and looked as dainty and feminine as can be until she opened her gift; a Go Diego Go Talking Rescue Gadget Belt.  Of course she insisted on wearing it over her dress.  She looked like a cross between Shirley Temple without the curls and Schneider (Pat Harrington, Jr.) from One Day at a Time.

Exhaustion had finally taken over so we had to corral our over-sugared munchkins and head home.  We hoped they would sleep because we needed to rest.  As we pulled out of the parking lot I noticed two sleeping kids in the rearview mirror.  They were probably dreaming about Santa Claus and their new toys or that freaking scary clown. 

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December 8, 2006 - Posted by | Humor, kids, parenthood, Ranting

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