Four Feet More

This year, for the first time ever, we took the kids to visit Santa. I actually was going to take them last year, but when we got to the mall, the Santa there looked kind of shady. I’m not sure what it was, but he just creeped me out. So, the kids didn’t sit on his lap.

This year, however, I realized that it may be the last time our kids want to sit on Santa’s lap, so Jeff and I made a point of going to the mall to visit the jolly old elf. Well, wouldn’t you know, it was the same guy from last year. He looked a little less shifty this year though, and their photo printer was down, so the poor guy was sitting there, all alone, waiting for people to visit him. Since we had our own camera, we walked right up to his Christmas Throne and Eamon climbed on to Santa’s lap. Vika also took a turn, listing all the things she wanted him to bring her for Christmas (most of it “American Girl” related. *sigh*). As the kids spoke with Santa, he kept looking over at me with a little gleam in his eyes. I didn’t understand why until a few minutes later.

When the kids were done, Santa looked at me with this sly grin and said, “Kids, you want Mommy to sit on Santa’s lap?” “Oh God” I thought, “NO!” But by then the Vika and Eamon were excitedly shouting “Yes! Yes! Papa too!” and Santa has his arms wide open, waiting for me to join him on his throne. I nervously walked forward, and gingerly sat on his leg, almost standing really, waiting for Jeff to come over so we could get this thing done. Santa boomed, “NOPE! Put both legs in the middle, Mom and sit DOWN on my lap!” I looked to Jeff for some help, but he was giving Vika a quick tutorial on the camera and completely oblivious to my distress. Seeing no way out, I turned slightly and sat down fully on the man's red-clad leg. When Jeff joined me on Santa’s other leg, I felt St. Nick’s arm slip around my side and rest gently on my ribs.

Then, Santa copped a feel. When Vika held up the camera to take our picture, Santa began tickling my ribs. I jumped up in startled laughter, but he pulled me back down with a self-satisfied leer. Only he didn’t stop there. He kept at it, saying, “Oh! I found Mommy’s tickle spot!” My discomfort with the situation grew.

Finally, after about four pictures, I twisted away from Santa’s grasping paws and tried to gather up my things in as dignified a manner as possible.

As we walked away, a boisterous “Ho! Ho! Ho!” trailing behind us, I asked Jeff, “Did Santa tickle you?”

“Yep!” He replied, as if there was nothing at all strange about a grown man tickling other adults while they are sitting on his lap. Jeff went on to explain, “He just did it for the pictures.”

Well, you know what? I’m 35 years old. I’ve had plenty of years practice smiling for the camera, and can do it pretty well without being prodded along by a complete stranger, thankyouverymuch.

My weirdness aside, Vika and Eamon had a great time and talked all the way home about how that must have been the real Santa, and not one of his Holiday Helpers. It was fun to see how excited they were to finally meet St. Nick in person. Although Eamon was a bit disappointed that there wasn't a slide (like in "A Christmas Story").

Now that I think about it, a tickling Santa isn't quite as bad at the "Christmas Story" one. At least none of us got a boot to the face.