Chaletgirl

Not Nice

December 12, 2011 at 8:08 am | Posted in Family | 12 Comments

Like many others, the lead up to a photo with Santa, for us, has required many scouting trips beforehand to familiarise a small child with the big man in red. We started this year, quite early, in November at shopping centre ‘A” where we happened to be one day.

“Oh, look, Santa is here! Should we go and say hello?”

“No,” said the small child, shuddering.

“Oh, yes! Let’s stand back here and wave to him! Hello, Santa!”

The small child planted her face in my skirt.

“Oh, he is a very happy Santa! Hello, Santa!”

“Will he come out of the gate? He can’t come out of the gate……” she worried as she perused the small picket fence around the Santa enclosure.

“Oh, no, he doesn’t come out of the gate. Why don’t we get something to eat here and we’ll have a little look at Santa while we have lunch?

“Okay.”

And most conveniently, this Santa was situated in a food court, and given that we always, always, always go home for our lunch, having lunch in a food court was a treat for this small child. We picked up some stir fried veges and noodles and plonked ourselves on a table very convenient to the little picket fence around the Santa enclosure.

Much waving and smiling ensued as the small child and Santa got to know each other across the fence, and it was all going swimmingly. Then we got a call from school to pick up the big child who wasn’t well, so we packed up in a hurry, waved goodbye to Santa and headed off.

—–

A week later we were at shopping centre B. Shopping centre B is where we have always had our Santa photos taken. 6 years of tradition, and this was where we would ultimately have our photo taken this year. I am nothing if not a predictable, consistent, boring old fart and I don’t like things to change.

“Oh, look! There’s Santa! Let’s go and say hello to Santa!”

“Okay! Where is he?”

“Here he is! Hello Santa!”

She looked at Santa. She looked at another small picket fence. She looked back at Santa. She waved.

She stepped back.

“This Santa,” she declared, waving her finger towards him, “This Santa, is not nice. Not nice. Not this Santa.”

“Um, what do you mean he is not nice? Of course he is nice! All Santas are nice, hello, Santa!” I cried, waving furiously.

“No. No. Not this one. Other Santa is my Santa. This one,” waving her finger at him, “is not nice.”

And, so we left.

——

All week, she checked in with me. “Where was that first Santa? He was a very nice Santa. I like that Santa. Not other Santa. He’s not a nice Santa. Not nice.”

“Why is he not nice? All Santas are nice!”

“No, that one,” waving her index finger again,” is not nice. Other Santa, that is my Santa.”

And I saw my vision of a 7th consecutive Santa photo, with the same banner at the same shopping centre, fly out of the window. And I was, surprisingly, okay with that. This small child has taught me so much with regard to letting go, running with the flow, and letting  her have a say about things that affect her (within the realms of overall parental control, of course).

“Will you tell your Santa what you would like for Christmas and have a photo with him”

“One,” she declared, holding up her index finger, “just one photo.”

——–

We returned to shopping centre A about a week later to return some library books. Imagine my surprise when the small child piped up with, “Let’s go and see my Santa. And have a photo. Just one. Just one photo.”

Now I present to you Exhibits A, B and C….

So you can imagine my joy at her wanting to go and see Santa. Luckily we had the boy child with us too, and although neither were dressed the way I would like for the annual Santa photo, there was mumbling about gift horses and a decided gallop towards the Santa enclosure.

Her Santa, the nice Santa, hopped off his big chair and came towards the fence towards her. “Hello,” he said. She turned towards me, looked up and whispered, “He won’t come out of the gate, will he?”. “No, sweetheart, you’re okay,” I whispered back.

She had a lovely conversation with her Santa. All by the gate. She told him her name, and that she was having her birthday in a few days. She told him about her brother, and that he was 6. And Santa said, “Well, Henry, if you are six, then you must just be about to finish Kindergarten and start in Year One next year!” And even the boy child looked adoringly at the nice Santa, because, just how could he know that?

“Would you like to come and have a photo with me, Emmeline?” he asked gently.

“Just one” she declared, showing him her index finger. “Just one.”

And she did, although there was definitely more than one photo taken, because she’s not overly generous with her smiles, and the boy child tries to smile but has that really silly 6 year old boy grin that drives me crazy in photos.

My favourite part was when she looked up at her Santa adoringly, waved her finger from side to side, and told him, “Other Santa, not nice. Not nice at all.” And I saw the gentlest of smiles from her Santa as he tried not to laugh.

—–

Unfortunately, they aren’t the best photos because they were taken from a wide angle and the kids were quite far away. I have manage to crop and zoom it a bit for this post. I think we’ll have another go, because she hasn’t stopped asking to go back to see her Santa.

But the amazing thing about this whole experience, is that she was right. She was so right. This Santa was so much nicer than the other Santa, something she even picked up on from a distance. Her Santa was warm and kind and patient and engaging and he will always be our first choice in visiting Santa now. I just hope that he stays at the same place. He will always be her Santa.