The alcove of the car was filled with a rather uncomfortable silence after Santa bolted. The boys were a little hurt, totally confused, and not sure at all why anybody thought that would be fun. Well, the children cheering and talking with Santa through the doorway certainly did.
Zorak and I stood there, giving each other twitchy eye signals, trying to get a grip on our natural instincts to go find out what the hell kind of Santa would do that to little kids, and trying to think of a way not to make the trip any more unpleasant than it already had been up to that point.
Ten or fifteen minutes later, Santa sauntered back into our alcove, sat down, grabbed James by the arm and said, "Here." There wasn't a "Ho-ho-ho", or a "Merry Christmas" in sight. I was leaning forward to start my protective-mommy tirade, but the smile on James' face stopped me (he later confided in me that he felt so special that Santa chose to sit by him when he came back). OK, that smile is the reason we did this. Zorak focused the camera to get a shot, when suddenly, without even looking at James to see what he was doing (mugging gleefully for the camera), Santa reached up...
...and ran his hand all over James' face, saying, "Let's rub some of this ugly off, here."
OK, even without the residual sting of thinking Santa doesn't like you, what kind of Santa would say that to a child? But on top of the recent awkwardness, that was just weird, and, truthfully, it came across as kind of mean. This isn't your drinking buddy, here, or your little sister's new fiance. It's a little kid who has never seen the BillyBob Thornton version of Santa before. James stumbled his way through explaining to Santa what he wanted for Christmas. He was hopeful, but the Santa kept interrupting him to say, "So it's a puzzle?" No, not a puzzle, it's a game... Yeah, Santa didn't care. As far as he's concerned, it's a puzzle, and James is pretty certain he won't be getting it for Christmas.
Zorak managed to snap one more shot, but James wasn't ready. I don't think any of us was ready for anything at that point.
Santa swung James back around to his seat, and Smidge leapt over to see Santa. That went well for Smidge - no facial attacks, at least.
But when Santa looked at Zorak and said, "GO." (meaning, snap this picture and get this over with) Well, it didn't do much to endear Zorak to this particular brand of Santa. Smidge wants (20 guesses and the first 19 don't count)... a train.
John's turn. John wanted to go, but if he'd known about David Lynch films, he would have been certain he was in one. Or worse yet, terrified he was stuck in a Quentin Tarantino film. (I guess it's good the boys lack a basic knowledge of some pop culture.) He slipped over, spit out his need for "accessories" for his pirate costume, and bolted back to the relative safety of Dad.
The boys wanted Miss Emily to see Santa. Miss Emily was quite happy on my lap. However, Santa didn't seem to be inebriated, and we had both exits covered. Evidently, Baby Girl had heard rumors of Santa's affinity for Elf Bowling, and she was a little nervous...
She handled it a bit better when he sat down and she no longer felt an impending strike coming on...
And in the end, Zorak and I were more than thrilled to get off that train. The boys' spirits were byuoyed by the candy canes and gift bags the volunteers handed out upon disembarkation. As we drove away, and the smell of feet dissipated from our nostrils, the boys' memory functions kicked in to reconstruct the afternoon into a delightful, fantasy-filled adventure with Santa. That phenomena, in itself is a little disturbing, but when it works in our favor, it can be good. And I'm sure in thirty years, we'll be taking our grandchildren aboard the Santa Train, expecting a fun-filled delight for the children. Hopefully, we'll remember the lessons we learned this time around. ;-)
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
11 comments:
What the? That is the wierdest Santa experience I have ever heard of! The childhood memory function is certainly handy at times!
What a bad santa! Good thing kids dont think like us and try to rationalize how that guy acted and what he said! I would be writing a letter but thats just how I am :) I am so glad the kids had such a good time. The one of your daughetr looking at him is priceless. Its like she is wondering wow who the heck dresses like that?
Can I just say how *perfect* Miss Emily's expression is in the photo with Santa?
Her look seems to sum up everything you and Zorak were surely thinking.
Have you thought of sending a copy of this blog entry to the Railroad? I would think they would want to know.
Three cheers for the boys' ability to remember the good! Nourish that!
Blessings,
Hillary :)
Was this Santa a cousin of the clown y'all met this past spring/summer? Sounds like they could be related!
S.J. would've lost her mind if some hairy stranger had picked her up like that...her grandpa, who has been mistaken for Santa Claus by small children can't even hold her, because the lip immediately goes out and the tears start to flow. Yay for Emily being so brave!
I'm sure the kids will remember this fondly for a long, long, time.
mere
That is certainly the most horrible thing I have ever heard done in the name of children's fun. :( You handled yourselves with grace and wisdom, though and without reacting (like I would have done), didn't make it worse than it already was. Nevertheless, I would put a call into the railroad to tell them of this.
I just feel so badly for you guys.
I'm flabbergasted. What kind of person would do that to little children?
I can not believe that "Santa" said that to James, I would not have been able to handle it as well as you did. I think Santa would have been lying on the floor of that smelly train. How dare he say something like that to a child!? Thank God for a child's ability to remember the good things.
It's a shame Miss Emily didn't puke in his face when he had her. Not that I'd wish her ill for any reason, but hey, she's still at an age where puke can just mean, "Hey! You jostled me!"
Ernie's comment (which blogger confusion prevented him from posting himself) was that it would create a whole new Christmas memory for the years: "Remember that time when Daddy went to jail for whoopin' Santa's ass??"
Oh my goodness! Poor James. I'm with those who said you should contact the railroad and let them know that they have an Evil Santa working for them. I love Emily's expression!
What on earth?! I would definitely write a letter to the railroad--when you pay a lot of money for an experience, you do not expect to be charged for dealing with a Santa with an attitude! I'm so glad the kids were not scarred for life, LOL. Still . . . weird.
I'm thinking about how the people who work in malls and department stores as "Santa's helpers" have to go through training sessions for dealing with small children. One of the most important details is to keep breath mints handy -- no child wants to sit on the lap of bad-breath Santa! Therefore, what comes out of Santa's mouth is of utmost importance... especially the words themselves. What Santa said to James was not funny or even cute. You're right that a drinking buddy or best friend could say that and get away with it, but not Santa. Include the number of comments that have been left here in your letter to the railroad -- we have all been upset by this. I am so happy that the boys were able to refine their memories of the day.
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