We cannot tell a lie. We knew it would happen. Let’s consider it pre-payment for the inevitable teenage torture we’re sure to receive!
The line moved us closer to Santa, Alaire’s turn was next. I stepped forward towards Santa and Alaire clutched me, shaking her little head, “no!” with all of her might.
Santa’s elf and I exchanged looks of concern. We all knew what would happen next.
Like ripping off a band-aid, I plopped my terrified little girl on Santa’s lap. If you’ve spent any time with Alaire, you know her cry ramps like a sportscar. Zero to 60 in seconds. And, she cries LOUD!
If there were any children behind with reservations about sitting on Santa’s lap, I’m sure hearing Alaire’s screams magnified their stranger danger alert.
Sorry Santa! Maybe next year…