I have a child who loves all things Christmas and Baby Jesus and Santa. For example:
She believes that to decorate the tree (which you have just deprived of several of its ornaments), you must wear your Christmas hat. She loves Christmas lights, Christmas trees, baby Jesus and his mama and daddy, and the Santa she sees in books, in movies, and on Christmas decorations.
And yet, when she sees Santa in person, she runs the other way. She was frankly terrified of him at Pioneer Christmas, and loudly refused to see him at Cookies and Milk with Santa. (“I’m not seeing Santa!” she declared over and over again.)
This is fine with us, but when Zoe started asking to see “Mrs. Santa Claus” on Saturday, I admit I got a little excited. We stopped at the Litchfield Santa House, where a very sleepy Zoe eagerly accepted the bag of treats from the firefighters out front. When we got into the house, however, there was only Mr. Santa and no Mrs. (she is probably way busier than the man himself this time of year). Here is how Zoe reacted:
This is as close as Zoe was willing to go. Santa took it like a champ. “Maybe next year,” he said.
Thanks for understanding, Santa. And thank you, Litchfield Fire Department, for bringing Santa to Litchfield! It makes me happy to see the fire trucks outside the Santa House and know that Santa is in there, visiting with kids who don’t shriek at the sight of him. God bless us every one.
Here’s another Santa-related thing Zoe likes: “Must Be Santa” as sung by my own childhood favorite, Raffi. (I saw him in concert once. Don’t be jealous.)