Santa

Yesterday we went to see Santa. When I was little I was very scared of Santa (and really who could blame me?) so for a few weeks now I've been talking about Santa in glowing terms and pointing him out to Jack in books and the like. I was hoping that we would avoid my santaphobia. Actually there's probably a proper word for it (not santa claustrophobia). We even took Narelle and the other Jack for moral support and we knew the photographer, the lovely Belinda.
But as soon as we got close to Santa Jack froze and clung on to me. Would not countenance going near Santa, let alone sitting on his lap. What to do? Santa suggested I sit on his lap. Now as you can see he kind of looks like the real deal. His eyebrows were drawn on in white pencil. I figure this is his favourite gig of the year and he's maybe nearly eighty so when he suggested I sit on his knee I was worried about snapping one of his geriatric limbs but he was quite enthusiastic about the idea. Everyone gave me the nod so after he fluffed his beard, I sighed and sat on his knee. Jack had his legs pincered around me like a koala and a freaked out one at that. And no he wasn't trying to advertise the DVD he's holding. Just didn't want to let go of it (I think Peppa's presence reassured him). Once I'd turned him around to face the camera we were set to go. A lot of effort went into getting Jack to smile but that was asking alot. I'm laughing, a nervous kind of laugh because Santa started saying he felt like Clint Eastwood. And my hair is once again insane because I'd spent the previous hour chasing Jack around the library and the park. So we got our first Santa photo and it's a cracker. We had to go and play with the trains on the Thomas table to recover. Maybe next year I'll send S.