A visit to Santa.

Or not.

I was at the mall today after delivering two small individuals to a drop-in daycare. I went in the Dillard's entrance between Petites and Dillard's Woman, gloriously alone. When I entered the mall I heard the pitter patter of little reindeer feet and the squeals of delight...er...impatience from children young and old - mostly the parents balancing in line with their little loved ones. It did not look like fun to me.

I decided that visiting Santa this year was very low on my list of priorities. Maybe I can dress Randy up as Santa and have the kids sit in his lap like they do every evening. Or perhaps Punky would like to wear a little kitty Santa suit. Would you like to rent a suit and come over? I bet I could get a few neighbor kids to cry on you.

When I walked past the Santa display again I felt a little tug of sadness that I was not willing to stand in line in order to get a picture with that fat guy. (Yes I had dropped off the kids already, and no I don't mean that I wanted to get a picture of myself on Santa's lap.) Maybe if I were a "better" mom I would suck it up to get that picture. Am I missing something really special by skipping this rite of passage? Then I decided again that I would rather pull out my eyelashes one by one than stand in line with a 1- and a 2-year-old boy for who knows how long.

I was pretty psyched then to waltz right past the Santa display twice smiling blissfully at the nice, patient moms with their screamy little elves. I picked up my happy children at playcare and took them home to their wee little beds. It was a good day.