A Visit with Santa

Each year, I take my kids to see Santa at the local mall. In years past, we have had a really authentic looking Santa, so it's a lot of fun for all involved. This year was not looking to be such a memory-laden year.

On several occasions, we arrived at the mall only to find a line curling around the hallways for miles, and Santa nowhere to be found. Evidently, Santa needs lots of breaks during the day. Probably a union guy! Anyway, we made our third and final attempt today. The kids were finally on Christmas break, and I was running out of excuses. I figured if we hit it early, we would surely beat the crowds and make a quick trip of it. Well, one delay led to another throughout the morning and we didn't arrive at Santa's lair until around 12:50pm. Guess what?! Santa takes a two-hour lunch break. I don't even remember getting a two-hour lunch break when I was working in the corporate world!

I looked into the eyes of my five-year-old, hopeful that she would see that there was no sense to wait over an hour in the already growing line just to see a fake Santa. (She already has figured out that the real one is at the North Pole busily making toys before Christmas.) Boy, was I wrong. She promptly parked herself behind the last person in line and waited patiently. After about five minutes of this, I hinted that maybe we could catch him another time. This was met with a pout and welled-up tears in her eyes. Not to mention, at this very moment, my other kids were complaining about the delay because none of them had any desire to sit on an old man's lap and tell him what they wanted for Christmas.

So there I was . . . waiting in a line, grouchy, impatient and wondering how in the world to get through the next 45 minutes until Santa arrived back at his chair. (Enter the singing angels.) All of the sudden, whom do I see getting on the elevator right on the other side of the 3 ft. high gate behind which we were standing but Santa himself. Laden with packages I can only assume were for Mrs. Claus, he was pushing the "up" button to head upstairs. Maybe a little shopping at Gap before coming back to work? Well, the mothering instinct in me sprang into action. As that elevator door opened, I hopped the gate, hauled my kids over the with me and popped in the elevator with Santa. "Okay, Molly, tell Santa what you want for Christmas!" (Picture me with my sweet smile plastered on my face and Santa scowling at me. Also, play elevator music in the background for your listening enjoyment!)

In the span of about 30 seconds, Molly unloaded her wish list, which consisted wholly of a yo-yo. The other kids begrudgingly told him their present ideas and thankfully, Santa listened and nodded with at least a little bit of interest. Okay, maybe there was no "Ho, Ho, Ho!", but at least he smiled at the children. And I didn't waste all day at the mall. Molly and I went hand in hand throughout the rest of the day, fully satisfied that we had done our Christmas tradition. And Mom was left with sanity intact. The moral of the story . . . Santa can't be everywhere at once, so chase him down when you have the chance!