Santa is scary

I am scared of lots of things.  Snakes.  Rodents.  Horror movies.  Death metal bands.

I realize that I'm a chicken.

I am not scared of Santa.  But I do have the requisite "terrified of Santa" picture in the family photo archives. I am not organized enough to have it scanned to include, but stay tuned.  I'll dig it up before the new year.  It's a gem.

The other day, Jack was scared of Santa.  He thought this crazy deal that I had dragged him to was less than awesome.  We waited in line.  Why was Momma making him wait in line?

To sit on the lap of a stranger?  Oh, hell no.  Commence whining, screaming, wailing, and clinging to the Momma like we were super glued together.  Sigh.  

Because I am in charge of what I post here, I only post good pictures.  Not works of art, but I keep it flattering.  It's editorial privilege or common sense or something.

But in the name of honesty, I will share with you a picture that is less than good.  Honestly, this is the best we came up with.

Several disclaimers:

-- I did NOT want to be in this picture.

-- Jack would not let go of me.

-- We had waited over an hour in line.  (Don't ask.)

-- I had become irrationally committed to getting a PICTURE WITH SANTA, DAMMIT.

-- Therefore, I was forced to be in the picture.

Okay, enough already.  Here.

Wishing you a mediocre/scary/less than enthusiastic Christmas?  There were so many caption options that I just left it open.

Here's hoping your day has a fair amount of enthusiasm.

Talk soon,
Heather