HO HO HOstile

She's thrilled to be here.

One of our favorite Christmas traditions is the annual trip to see that jolly, jelly bellied man in red. It just doesn't feel like Christmas without this holiday ritual. That being said, the Santa Claus of dreams and Christmas carols is never the result of such a trek. In fact, we usually get quite the opposite. Each time we've visited Santa, his appearance did not disappoint. From his snowy white beard, to his beautiful red suit-he looks like the real deal. But, that's where the similarities end. Picture a little less "Miracle on 34th Street", a little more, "A Christmas Story".

Last year we made our way up the village walk way, excited to place our perfect little Christmas angel, all preened and prettied, on dear ol' Kris Kringle's lap, when we were stopped very suddenly by his protest:

"Not there!" he said in a gruff, ex prison guard-like voice.

"Oh! Um....sorry?! Where would you like her?" I asked.

That was when I noticed the giant icepack resting on his knee.

"That's my bad knee! Put her on the other one."

I quickly obeyed and calculated how far back I would have to step away to stay out of the picture, and yet still be close enough to catch my little girl when the steal plate in this old man's knees decided to give way. Am I wrong in thinking there are only 2 prerequisites to playing Santa?

1.Do you have a beard?

2.Can children sit on your lap? (And I think the first one is flexible. But, the lap thing, that's pretty much a necessity.)

I'd like to give this man the benefit of the doubt. I'd like to think that he's playing Santa because he loves to bring joy to little children. Not because this was court mandated community service for an old Hell's Angels crime that finally caught up to him. I want to believe that he applied for this job to share in the magic of Christmas. But, should Santa really be icing his knees between children? Or wincing in pain and cursing under his breath when you set them on his good knee?

Needless to say, my brother-in-law called ahead this year to see if Santa would be played by the same "darling" man as last year. He was told that he wasn't, but that this Santa was "just as good".

Oh. That's a relief.

Once again, we found ourselves in line to see Mr. Claus, with both our little ones in tow, as well as our 2 nieces. I glanced into his cottage, hoping to get a glimpse of him. No ice pack! Could we have found our saintly Santa?

Ava and Mia with cousins Emma and Sophie

When it was finally our turn, Ava skipped over with her list in hand, anxious to tell him all that she had rehearsed. She braced herself to be lifted up by her Christmas hero, and ..........he.did.nothing. He didn't move. Ava put one hand on his chair and the other on his knee and hoisted herself up. He, just sat there. I was beginning to think they had just plucked one of the window dummies from the front of some store and dressed it in a red suit.

And, maybe it was all the "stranger danger" discussions we've had or the fact that he smelled of lunch meat and Hall's eucalyptus drops- but when I attempted to place Mia on his other knee, she wasn't having any of it. I considered sitting on Santa's lap while holding Mia, but after the "Titanium Knee Debacle of '07", I thought better of it. Instead I awkwardly half stood, half crouched next to them, resulting in a Hunchback of Notre Dame impersonation.

Just point me to the bell tower....

When it was time for them to smile for the picture, Santa responded by slightly opening his mouth. We think that was a smile. He then raised his hands as if to say,"Please get your child off of my aching knees". And that was that.

*

I'm just happy he didn't push her off of his lap.

And, so another Santa visit comes to an end. If we're really lucky, next year's Santa will be even better! Maybe he'll pinch the girls and tell them the real Santa is dead......