I have many memories of my childhood at Christmas. I remember watching the sky at night on Christmas eve hoping to get a chance of Santa in his sleigh. I remember sitting out milk and cookies so he would have a snack after he shimmied down the chimney. I remember the joy in coming downstairs the next morning to see what he had left for me.
One thing I don’t really remember is sitting on his lap. Sure it was certainly a rite of passage, and there are even pics to prove it, but I don’t recall being particularly jazzed about going to see Santa every year. Perhaps my five-year old brain was innocent enough to believe in the magic of Santa, but not not so innocent that I thought he could magically appear at every mall within driving distance of my home. I mean, every mall we went to there was Santa.
Now that I have a daughter of my own, the decision to take Foxy to see Santa is very real. I know, I know, she is a baby so she won’t care one way or the other. But I feel like if I am going to do the “sit on Santa’s lap” thing I should start now. That way she will have a picture of her each Christmas with Santa. Wouldn’t that be nice to add to her photo albums?
Except this is 2010 and the idea of my daughter sitting on some strange man’s lap is not at all enticing. It’s sad to say, but when I think of her sitting on Santa’s lap I imagine myself delivering her to the lap of a pe.do.phile in a big red suit. Like delivering the sheep to the wolves. Uh, no thanks.
I’m not feeling the pictures with Santa thing. Not one bit. In a couple of years I’ll be singing Santa’s praises. I’ll tell her stories and about him, the Mrs. and the eight reindeer. But when she asks to go see him, I will very diplomatically let her know that those are Santa’s representatives and not the real man himself.
Anything to keep her off the stranger’s lap.
Do your children have their pictures taken with Santa? If not, why? How do you let them believe in Santa, but not go sit on his lap?