Confessions of an Unintentional Domestic Goddess

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Why yes, I am psychic

on December 22, 2009

Well, today we finally made it to see Santa. I have a feeling this was probably the last one for my son, who is now 9. We got dressed in our holiday finery and made the trek to the mall.  We did go early because there is no way I want to fight mall traffic later in the day.

Santa arrives at 10AM and we were there by 9:50, and the line was already a dozen deep. Thankfully, there were no screaming children in line.  Everyone seemed to be well-behaved and vibrating with anticipation of telling the big man what they wanted for Christmas and how good they’d been all year. 

There was  family in front of us with four children. They were all well-behaved while waiting for their turn. Included in this group was a girl about 6 or 7, a boy about 4 and twin girls in the neighborhood of 2. Everything was fine until the rope was pulled back to allow them their chance to see the jolly old elf. That’s when it happened. Ear-piercing, glass-shattering screaming from the twin girls.  One stuck to dad, the other to mom, while the older children looked at the girls as if they’d just fallen from the sky. I think my ears started to bleed before they removed the children from the area.

Our turn! Yay! I was actually allowed to take pictures with my camera because I’d agreed to purchase their over-priced portraits. I got several good shots and they did as well. My children went without hesitation to sit on his knee and tell him what they wished for. The pictures are wonderful and I’ll cherish them always.

Now, how do I know that I have psychic abilities, you ask? Well, as I was admiring the photos of my children on Santa’s knee, I looked at the expression on his face.  It was not one of joy, happiness, or peace, but rather a restrained boredom, fatigue and exhaustion. His smile, if you can call it that, was a pained, strained bearing of teeth, it almost looked like he was ready to eat the children the way his lips parted to show his teeth!  His eyes were looking into the camera with a pleading look, begging for help, and saying, ‘Dear God, is it over yet?” I feel his pain, I too am ready for it to be over, but I have to say, ‘Not yet, Santa. Your big night is almost here, then you can rest.’

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