November 26, 2008 7:00 am
We took a trip to the mall earlier in the week to meet up with a friend and kill some of the afternoon with the kids. This is the secret handshake friend I wrote about awhile back, we usually try to meet up once a week. Today we got coffee and then wheeled our kids around in their strollers while we chatted for awhile.
My secret handshake friend is Jewish, and we were discussing the upcoming holidays and how we plan to celebrate. The mall was surprisingly crowded with pre-holiday shoppers. Not to go on a side tangent but it annoys me to no end when people:
1) Walk on the wrong side of the aisle (stay to the right, we’re in America).
2) Walk under the mall speed limit (which in my head is at least 3MPH).
3) Turn and walk directly in my path, forcing me to stop short and almost run them over.
4) Go to the mall in the first place. Stay home, people. The economy is in a rut, save your money.
Ok, tangent over. So we’re walking along when some asshole stops in front me and I almost run into the fucker. It’s Santa. Fucking Santa is in the mall and he broke mall rule #3. SH Friend and I stop short and look at him and he does the same. He starts waving at my two clueless kids and my friend’s two Jewish-non-Santa-believing-in kids. I was baffled and looked over to see Santa’s place with a “be back in 15 minutes” sign up. Apparently Santa was headed off for his afternoon whiskey break. Anyways, all of the mothers and kids in line were staring over at Santa with anticipation and he stopped to wave at our uncaring brood. I politely said something like “Oh look guys, it’s Santa! Hi Santa!” before wheeling around his drunk ass and continuing on our walk. I was a little baffled by the whole experience. Who expects Santa to pop around the corner and start waving in their faces? I sure didn’t.
Graham is going to be two in three weeks. He doesn’t have many character obsessions, save Blue’s Clues and Barney. He doesn’t watch Sesame Street but loves Cookie Monster and Elmo from books he reads. Santa? The kid has no fucking clue who that freaky assed fat guy is. I realized this last week while we were at Target and we picked up a few Christmas books so Graham would at be able to put a name to the face. Sure we’ll play the whole Santa gig up for him but I think he’s still pretty young for that sort of thing. I could be wrong but we’re not going overboard with Christmas this year. Graham’s birthday is five days before (yes, we got him double the presents, the kid isn’t going to get screwed out of gifts, don’t worry). I figure next year we can start doing the whole magical Christmas experience, once the kids are old enough to understand a bit more.
That day at the mall was very strange to me. That fact that Santa singled out the four kids in the place who couldn’t care less about him was awkward. I felt pretty bad for the poor bastard since we greeted him with stunned looks, but I’m over it now. Besides, Santa is probably still sleeping off his hangover on a park bench somewhere. It takes a lot of liquid courage to scare little kids all day like that.