I Suck At Santa Visits

Yesterday, my family had a special visit. A jolly o' soul with a white beard and red suit happened to visit my house yesterday. Too bad I suck at Santa visits.

In preparation for the event, Karen and I invited our friends (Cass, Ellen, and Meredith) to come on over and bring their respective children. Their children are all younger than our twenty one month old daughter (Briana). And of course, we invited my mother-in-law and father-in-law because they happened to be Santa's special helpers.

Needless to say, it was an interesting experience. This year, Briana seems to be afraid of good o' Santa. She cried uncontrollably to the point where she didn't want us near Santa when we visited Karen's relatives in Lowell. (Is there a lot to love about Lowell?) Whenever we've been walking around the mall, she would purposely avoid getting too close to Santa, preferring to watch him from afar instead.

I'm not sure when this fear developed. After all, she was okay last year. Then again, she was not even a year old the last time she saw Santa. I have a feeling that this may be a natural thing for babies: fear of Santa. The only reason I say that is because my niece and nephew behaved the same way when they were young. And as luck would have it, Cass and Ellen's daugher and Meredith's son also cried when they were in the presence of Santa yesterday. I bet it's the shoes. Just kidding.

Despite the tears, all of the children seemed to enjoy one particular aspect of the Santa visit: the receiving of gifts. Santa = tears. Presents = smile. After Santa left, all of the kids played with their toys. And might I add, having three kids in the house gets crazy.

All in all, I think everyone had a good time. And really, how can you not? Santa came to visit.