Santa’s Lap

After an appointment, we were driving to Zoo Lights and I needed to stop and use the restroom.  When I came out of the restroom, I saw Master Pravus standing over by a station that had the real Santa Claus (says me!).  Master Pravus gave me the “c’mere head nod” so I did.  (Of course).

I came over, and I guess Master Pravus had given Santa a tip so I could sit in Santa’s lap.

There was no one in the line waiting to talk to Santa and Santa informed us that he loved “Big Kids” as well as the usual kind.  Ha ha!  So I went over to Santa and I sat in his lap so Master Pravus could take a couple pictures.

Now I know I’m an adult and not some child, so I tried not to put my full weight on Santa.  Nope.  Santa pulled me down:

“Come sit in my lap, little girl!”

HA HA HA!  (I almost died)

We took a couple pictures and then I was going to get up and walk away, I looked at Santa and thanked him for his time.  Santa is strong though (Later, Master Pravus pointed out that he carries toys around all night and so of course he is strong!) and he tightened his grip around my waist and he wouldn’t let me get up.

“Now now, little girl.  You forgot to tell me what you want for Christmas!”

I think I turned a shade deeper than the red striped sleeves of my dress.

“You can tell him what you want for Christmas, Kitty.  It’s OK.  This is Santa, after all.”

(What on Earth were these two grown men conspiring while I was in the bathroom?!?!)

Actually, on the way from my appointment, I was telling Master Pravus how my actual want for Christmas this year was health insurance.  Ha.  Master Pravus says that’s a sure sign that I’m either an adult, or sick, or both.  Still, I wasn’t going to say that to Santa.  I’ve seen the Christmas movies and I know that Santa can only do so much.  Plus, I know Master Pravus is looking very hard for a permanent job with good benefits.

I blanked.

“I.  Oh,  you know.  Just a nice day with my family.”  I told Santa.  I tried to stand up again, after smiling sweetly at him.

Santa tightened his grip again.  He wasn’t letting me off that easy!

“Now, that’s very nice and all.  I bet you’ll get it, but there must be something that you want for yourself.  A special present just for you?”

I went with my go-to.  Santa is a tough cookie!

“A pony!”

“A pony?”

“Yes, I’ve always wanted a pony!”

“Where will you keep him?”

“We have a huge yard!  I can build him a stable and feed him carrots!”

“Now, a pony sounds like a nice present!  Merry Christmas, little girl!”

That seemed to satisfy him.  Santa let me up.  Now, if that wasn’t the real Santa, then I assume he’d have broken character once or twice or let me off a bit easier than that, wouldn’t he have??  Plus, he looked just like the real Santa.

As an atheist, I’ve only ever celebrated Xmas as a commercial holiday, a time for presents and because I like snow and ornaments.  I always wish people “Happy Holidays” but on my way out of the store, I realized that it was Santa, so it’s probably okay to wish him a “Merry Christmas.”

On our way out of the store all the kids were looking at me like I had nine heads and two arms.  Kids these days.  I’ll never understand them.  Nope.

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