Today, Jackson and his classmates had a little Mommy (or Daddy) and Me time decorating gingerbread houses (which turned out to be graham crackers cleverly glued to wee milk cartons). Being an old pro, I pitched in to help.
Afterwards, we took Jackson to a much-hyped visit to "The Real Santa." Supposedly, the place has been operating for something like 35 years. When we pulled up in the parking lot it occurred to me that they've been using the same sad DIY props (possibly hand-painted by prisoners) the whole time. Perhaps I'm spoiled having seen one too many Christmas Villages at hoity toity malls. But I digress.
How it supposedly works ********spoiler alert*********** is that the parent slips away to a secret booth and feeds pertinent info (kid's name, what they're getting from santa, etc.) to an intermediary who then passes this on to Santa who is wearing an earpiece. Thus, Santa KNOWS YOUR NAME (emphasis courtesy of Jenna).
Well, it was a pretty good idea in theory. But anyone who’s ever played the game “Telephone” will likely guess how this turned out.
Jackson and I are waiting our turn at the bottom of the steps as a couple of annoyingly skeptical kids try and trip Santa up. He seems to hold his own and eventually they leave. And then..."Jackson?" Santa calls. Jackson beams as we make our way up the steps. And then…
Jenna: Tell Jackson Santa gave him his DVD player early so he’ll have it when he goes to Pa Paw’s house.
Intermediary: He’s going to get a DVD player when he goes to his grandpa’s house.
Jenna: Pa Paw’s house! And Santa already gave him the DVD player.
Intermediary: Santa gave him the DVD player at his grandpa’s house.
Santa: There’s a DVD player at grandpa’s house.
Jackson: Stunned silence.
Then they try it again:
Jenna: Ask him about his cats, Tigger and Pooh.
Intermediary: Ask him about his cats, Tigger and Two.
Jenna: Pooh! Tigger and Pooh!
Intermediary: Tigger and Pooh.
Santa: I’m bringing cats to Grandpa’s house. Tigger and Two.
Jackson: Stunned silence.
I got the distinct impression Santa might be drunk. And not to judge on appearances, but he did look sorta creepy. I also did not find him particularly jolly.
I hurriedly snapped a few pictures, feeling fairly certain they would not end up on Jenna’s Christmas card (and I was right). As a parting gift, Jackson got an armadillo Beanie Baby. I have to admit that beats the candy cane I used to get back in the day.
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