Scarlett and Santa - 2008

Notice the adorable grin on Scarlett’s face…and the magical twinkle in Santa’s eye. Could the imaginary picture below be any cuter?!







As you might have guessed, we did not manage to get a picture of Scarlett sitting on Santa’s lap – as was our intention yesterday afternoon. We got Scarlett all dolled up, got to the mall early and got in line, and then – Nada. I’ll tell you why.

I had a sinking suspicion that Scarlett meeting Santa this year might not go so well. She met him last year no problem...but she would have taken a picture with Frankenstein last year had we asked her to. She was just a baby blob then. When we got in line to meet Santa this year, Scarlett seemed excited. Santa would stand up and wave to the crowds every so often, and the kids around us would ohh and ahh and clap, and Scarlett would copy them. I tried to psyche Scarlett up, "Scarlett, are you going to meet Santa? Are you going to sit in his lap?" She answered "yeah" to everything. Well...she lied.

When it came to be our turn to meet Santa, we walked slowly up to the sleigh where he sat. Joe and I enthusiastically said "Hi Santa!" while Scarlett enthusiastically screamed..."AAAHhhhhhhhh! NO!" In my fear of walking away pictureless I pathetically tried every trick in the book – from giving Santa a high five to sitting next to Santa myself. Scarlett wasn’t having any of it. She clenched (quite literally) on to me with a grip that got amazingly tighter and tighter the closer we got to Santa - as if she could pick up on his scent of candy canes and reindeer poop. Well folks...I, admittedly, was the mother of the screaming toddler who was absolutely petrified of Santa. It’s true. I could almost hear the other parents saying "alright already...it's not going to work."

After about a minute I shrugged and came to the conclusion...alright, it wasn’t going to work. We thanked Santa and started to walk away. Once she was safely 5 feet away from Santa our charming little Scarlett turned around, politely waved, and said "bye Santa" - as if nothing had happened and every goal we had upon initially walking up to Santa had been fully and completely met. I got 10 feet away and in my overly emotional pregnant state (and when I decided I was far enough away that no one would see me) – started sniveling, fully aware that I was being ridiculous, but sniveling none the less. Poor Joe. Poor, poor Joe. He did what every loving husband in that situation would do. He gave his upset toddler a hug. He gave his upset wife a hug. And he bought us both giant soft pretzels.

Till next year, Santa. Till next year.