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Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Who's Afraid of Big Bad Santa?

I always knew that there would come a time when I would have to protect my kids from the dangers of the world. I know that I would walk across hot coals barefoot for my kids, but I just never knew when I would be called to do that. At some point my fencing skills from high school would be called upon to be used. Alright maybe not that last part.

On Wednesdays, my older son (OS) stays at preschool for lunch while my younger son (YS) and I are in playgroup. Since he not only views it as a special treat, but he will actually eat whatever I pack him, this arrangement works out well for the both of us. When YS and I went inside to pick up OS today, he told me that Santa had visited his classroom. (According to a note from the teacher, he asked Santa for a "surprise." He told me that he asked for a car just like mine that he can drive.)

When we were in the parking lot, YS started clawing at my neck, as if he were scaling me to try to get away from something. Unable to wriggle free, he started to bury his head in my neck. I couldn't figure out what was going on. Was there a coyote on the loose? Had one dinosaur escaped extinction and was coming out of hiding looking for his first meal in 62 million years? I tried to comfort YS, but all I could get was the silent scream. You know the one where the baby scrunches his face, gets all red, and opens his mouth but nothing comes out? You have approximately two seconds to brace your eardrums to protect them from being blown out. OS was alarmed too.

That's when I saw him. He was driving through the parking lot in a tan pick up truck, apparently on his way to visit the afternoon class. It was...Santa. OS was thrilled. YS still had the silent scream going, and he began clawing madly at me. Then Santa stepped over the line. He actually rolled down the window and...wished us a Merry Christmas. YS lost it. He began howling at the top of his lungs as we finished walking across the parking lot.

I had one kid tugging my hand wanting to follow the pick up truck as it parked and another one who isn't walking yet , but who would probably have jumped up and sprinted to my car if I had let go. My only question was how come the pickup truck wasn't red?

A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Reindeer have a better union than Santa Claus; while Santa is driving around in a pickup truck scaring babies, they are resting in the North Pole until their single, annual night of work..

Labels: , ,

posted by Alex Elliot @ 4:54 PM   8 comments
8 Comments:

  • At 12/20/2007 6:21 AM, Blogger soccer mom in denial said…

    Ohhhhhhh..... I just want to hug him now and tell him it will be all over soon.

     

  • At 12/20/2007 9:00 AM, Blogger Fairly Odd Mother said…

    Yeah, I have one that LOVES Santa, one that is---just this year---able to get near him without panic, and one who is terrified. Makes for interesting photos.

     

  • At 12/20/2007 10:11 AM, Blogger Kami said…

    Yes, we know all about the terror of Santa over here ;-)

    It's another form of torture for some!

     

  • At 12/20/2007 10:52 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Your walking over glass might impress everyone with your devotion, however it would do nothing to benefit your children. Half an hour a day playing Hi Ho Cherrio or tossing a ball with them might be of more value.

     

  • At 12/20/2007 11:19 AM, Blogger Jen of A2eatwrite said…

    This is so common, sadly. I shared that with ys when I was little. Cable Girl at 42 wrote a funny post about it a week or two ago. Hugs to your little one!

     

  • At 12/20/2007 11:21 AM, Blogger Heather said…

    My son just this year ventured close to Santa. He really wants Rescue Heroes for Christmas...bad enough to brave the fat man in the red suit.

     

  • At 12/20/2007 12:56 PM, Blogger Alex Elliot said…

    This post has been removed by the author.

     

  • At 12/20/2007 2:37 PM, Blogger Jennifer aka Binky Bitch said…

    I feel sorry I am giggling so hard! Poor guy!

     
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Name:Alex Elliot
Home:MA, United States
About Me:Professional Mom of two cats, a dog, an ant farm, and oh yeah...two boys: a 6 year old and a 3 year old. Also found in my house is my husband who is known on this blog as The Big Giraffe.
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For those of us who didn't get an instruction manual with our babies and for whom parenting hasn't always gone as planned. On a more serious note this blog is about supporting a woman's ability to make her own choices about parenting including the choice, for whatever reason, to bottle feed her babies formula.

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