I posted this once before a long time ago, but since no one was reading my blog then, I figured I'd post it again.
You know, nothing says Christmas like kids sitting on Santa's lap asking for presents. Too bad some kids are scared of Santa.
You know, there are some pathetic Santas in that collection.
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Dear Sharon: Some of my friends say there is no Santa Claus. But I really need to know if there is. My Mom has been telling me about something called global warming, and I'm worried about Santa, because he lives up at the North Pole, and if it melts, he'll be in trouble. My Mom said some grownups…
(This post first appeared on December 23, 2009, but has been reproduced, edited, and improved for 2011.)
089:32:50 Mattingly: Apollo 8, Houston. [No answer.]
089:33:38 Mattingly: Apollo 8, Houston.
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I remember it as clearly as if it was yesterday, even though it happened years ago, even before you were born. I screamed silently, pinned on my back by the massive weight of a cotton blanket, legs frozen, the dark lights flickering as the human-like form approached, its arms raised in front like…
Here's a fun old one...(December 04, 2005):
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When Milkriverblog asked for obscure-but-good movies the other day, I was busy and distracted, so I did not give it enough thought. If you ask nicely, he will send you MSWord file…
Chicago Tribune did the same thing, cover story. Felt sorry for those poor kids, having their pictures plastered on a major newspaper like that, terrified by some wierd apparition thrust into their world...
A friend's dog was terrified of Santa. Streetcorner Santas. Plastic lawn Santas. Pictures of Santa. Nobody has the slightest idea why.
I wasn't scared of Santa.
Until the time we were waiting in line and several children were crying in front of me, crying as they were led away from Santa, and I told my mom I didn't want to see Santa, and we just left. 30 minutes waiting in line, and we left when I was the 3rd kid in line, because MY mom wasn't ever mean enough to put me in a situation that she knew would freak me out that badly.
(I was OK seeing Santa the next year. It was just the thing of the other kids getting upset that upset me. I think I was 4.)
We're not doing the Santa thing. (None of my kids is sufficiently verbal to mess up any other kid's Santa thing, so I think we're OK on that in terms of influence on other kids whose parents may want them to believe in Santa.) Presents are from grandmas, uncles, aunts, Mommy and Daddy. And sometimes other grown-ups that come over and provide laps and hugs and read books aloud when asked to. ("Read book!" as it's thrust at you. What else can you do, but read the book?)