[An entirely true story for the season and poking a little fun at the new FCC rules]
On the way to this morning’s Snowflake run we spotted a Santa-elf-old man-sexy chick hybrid
then a bodyless, fro-wearing Santa
As soon as Benjamin realized they were fakes he went back to obsessing over his new Playmobile knight.
[Dear FCC: Playmobile did not pay me to say that. I bought my son a Playmobile because I grew up playing with Playmobiles and I love them].
Letting Benjamin bring the Playmobile was a bad call because the pieces fall off every two seconds.
When we walked into the registration room bursting with families, little kids and mascots – Benjamin still wouldn’t break his laser focus on the knight.
“See? See (Mr. Columbus Crew Cat)? This is my golden knight!”
[Dear FCC: The Crew did not pay me to post this photo. The Cat was in the right place at the right time. But, full disclosure, a long-time friend of mine - Steve Sirk - just wrote this cool book about The Crew.]
Then we spotted the one person Benjamin had been dying to meet…
Benjamin’s mouth dropped open and he stared up into the air at the towering man above him, with his big red suit and his stone white beard. It was the man he’d been talking and imagining up for months. Like he had been on the car ride over.
“I miss Santa.”
“But you haven’t met him yet.”
“Yeah. I have, mama, I know Santa. I do know him.”
A few pictures with Santa later, we heard orders from overhead: head to the starting line. Santa had moved on and we were trailing behind our friends. Pieces of the knight were still falling and Benjamin was stopping to pick up each one.
When I took the knight and put him in my pocket Benjamin dropped into a full-on, kicking, stomping and, running away from me tantrum.
I told our friends to “just keep going.” We would catch up.
And then I settled myself into the moment.I closed my eyes and wished that I had a few extra arms and maybe the ability to hypnotize him. I also felt like the worst mother in the world as every other family walked by – happy and tantrum-free.
Why my kid? Why?
Me. It has to be me.
And then up from the escalator came Santa Claus. Seeing Benjamin clearly distraught, Santa stopped and then scooped him up into his arms for a hug.
A really big hug.
“I miss my Daddy,” Benjamin cried into Santa’s beard.
“Well, where is he?” Santa asked.
Benjamin didn’t answer and neither did I.
Where was he?
Not there. That’s where. But we’re not sure where that is. You know what, instead of explaining – let’s just keep walking.
And so we did. Santa leading the way.
All the way to the starting line.
“They can’t start without us,” he told Benjamin as we ran up – a few minutes late.
Then Santa left us to head up front – to announce the start of the race. But then he stopped and came running back, “Wait,” he said to Benjamin, “you come up here with me.”
Santa took Benjamin’s hand and then (see them up there – behind the mascots?) he said
And then, they dashed
all the way to the finish line.
[And no, Santa Claus did not pay me to write this post. But I'll admit this story does seem familiar. Only in this one, there is no bell to lose and I think Mr. Benjamin will be believing in Mr. Santa Clause for the rest of his life.]
If anyone ever gives me anything to give to you, or to mention to you – I always, always say so… that means, this blog won’t be changing at all. Full disclosure here – clearly and always.
The Santa picture and more recent shots are in my new Winter 09 Photo Album.