This month flew by so fast, I simply didn’t realize how close we were to Christmas Eve until it was Christmas Eve, and by then I had no more time to procrastinate getting Santa pictures done. So naturally I called out of work and with husband in tow, toted little G-baby to the mall.
I wasn’t raised to believe in Santa Clause, and I don’t intend to raise my son believing either but my mom had all 4 of us (me, my sister and two brothers) pose for pictures with Santa every year until I left for college. At the time I kicked my feet and glared at the camera with “I’m too cool for this” written across my forehead, but I love looking back through the pictures and seeing how much we all grew and changed. Besides, Santa has become so synonymous with the Christmas season that yearly pictures with Santa just make sense. Or at least they did.
Look at my son. Sure, it’s hilarious. But it’s also kinda cruel. I just sat my little charmer on a strangers lap and walked away. In any other setting this would be considered abandonment, negligence, child cruelty or any other number of titles that the judicial system deem unlawful in the US.
What makes matters worse is the fact that I fully intend to do the same thing next year, and the next year, and the next year, and every year after that until poor little G-baby is 18. Clearly I am an asshole.
So let me ask you, am I being overly dramatic? Please tell me the truth because I can’t tell if this is adorable or atrocious.