So there we were in the middle of the mall starring up at the 50 foot tree. Like all children do, mine also wondered who was the moron that climbed all the way up that thing with a star. After said question was answered as best as "Why isn't the Indian Jones Lego set made for five year olds..Daddy let us watch the movie?" We moved on.
I took a quick glance at the portrait packages available. Suddenly it dawned on me that I wasn't the only one scanning my Santa pictures for our entire family. The elves must have caught on and despite economical difficulties, they decided to increase their prices three fold. Oh Goodie! I'll have to thank American Express for this night.
Aside from the Oscars (which I have not been nominated for yet) this was the only red carpet I would be walking on this year. But just as my foot was about to take its first step, a sound so heart wrenching went through my very being. I knew what it was, I had heard it before. In fact I hear it more often than I would like to admit some days.
As I turned to acknowledge the loud siren, which by the way, was coming from my little boys mouth, I put on my best Mommy pose and got down on my knee. In between his attempts to once again except fresh air into his lungs, he casually told me that he no longer wanted to sit on Santa's lap. (Oh fine, I thought to myself. What are we going to do now?)
My older child now took the opportunity to inform me that he will happily sit with Santa. A quick glare was given to his little brother. ("Oh no you don't Big Brother. Not here, not now. Mommy is on to that trickery. There is only one size Kids Meal at Chick Fillet. You Hear me little boy!"
I began to work my Mommy magic once more on screaming child. Hubby was already fed up after yes, dare I say, 2 minutes of tantrum....Amateur! I finally coaxed our little boy onto the red carpet. We began to talk about Santa's costume. Suddenly I realized I was having a conversation with myself.
My little boy had found the basket of goodies that Santa was handing out this year to all the good boys and girls who sat on his lap. He may have saw toys, but what I saw was ammunition. That's right I thought, two can play at this game. "If you want one of those toys honey, you'll have to talk to Santa." Basically it was true. Santa wasn't handing out Gingerbread gumby dolls to just any delinquent.
And with that, he made his choice. But I sadly learned the hard way, that bribery doesn't always work in Mommies favor.
My son gladly gave his wish list to Santa, and proudly collected his new toy, but sit for a picture...No Way! Just as the elf yelled cheese, the gut wrenching screams began again. The poor elf tried twice. Neither picture turned out like we hoped, but none the less, I pulled out that American Express card. (Don't leave home without it!)
Once our son recovered, which happened once he jumped off of Santa's lap (Ahh, a Christmas Miracle!) We were off to the food court. A big smile appeared on my son's face once the shining lights from the Chick Fillet sign were in sight.
Yes, I had been bamboozled by a three year old. It wasn't the first time, and I'm sure it won't be the last. Memories are memories no matter how good or bad. This one is still going down as a good memory.
For all you mommies out there that were wiping away tears this holiday season, this article is dedicated to you. The pictures will stay in a frame, but the memories go in our hearts! Happy Holidays!
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