After many Twitter comments about how I should tell the story behind Smalls’ look in today’s Wordless Wednesday post I thought I would share:
Last Saturday we braved the cold and wicked wind to attend our town’s Christmas lighting festival for a chance to see the jolly man. Our flyer said nothing of when Santa might appear only that the festival would run from 4-10pm.
We waited until 5:30 to head over as were were hoping to beat the hordes of obnoxious squealing kiddos (a little back story: last year we waited until 8pm to head over and ended up spending a good hour waiting in line in the below freezing temps surrounded by crying cold children to see the big guy only to find that Smalls wouldn’t sit on his lap.)
This year was different, turns out Santa didn’t arrive until 6, so we spent the next 30 minutes trying to occupy the small people. The upside is we were second in line so no waiting outside this year.
Once the ol’boy arrived and it’s our turn, Smalls hops right on his lap (no hesitation), looks him right in the eye and tells him “I want Orange Baby. You bring me Orange Baby.” She proceeds to repeat herself about five times never once looking at the photographer who is desperately trying to get her to look over so she can get a good shot of her…but Santa continues to ignore her. He is focused on getting the picture over with. Bigs, meanwhile, is ever compliant and is patiently smiling for the camera.
When we finally manage to get Smalls to look at the photographer She. Is. Pissed.
Here she spent all day talking about telling Santa just what she wanted (and Daddy reminded her to tell him just before getting on his lap) and the guy doesn’t even have the courtesy to look at her.
After the one shot is taken with her looking pissed, she whips her head back around and restarts her barrage of demands. He finally catches on and tells her if she’s a good little girl Santa will bring her Orange Baby, all the while he is looking to me pleadingly because there is an ever growing line of whiny cold kids behind us.
Satisfied with this answer, Smalls hops right off his lap and looks to him expectantly, she must have thought he meant she would get it right then. I manage to shuttle her off before she can get too irate all the while reassuring her the guy in red would deliver on his promise on Christmas morn.
All the while I am chuckling to myself. Serves him right for ignoring her.
Yep. She’s mine. Total one track mind.
Have you got any funny Santa/Holiday stories to share? If so I would love to hear about them!
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