Happy New Year and a special Santa

Hello fabulous folks and Happy New Year to YOU. I've been taking a vacation from blogging while I visited some vacation spots well known (and others not so well known) to winter travellers: The Isle of Aches, Diarrhea Desert, Sore Throat Cruise, Mastitis Mansion, Pinkeye Spa and Resort, the Valley of Over Indulgence, and the Land of Low Energy. I also happily made a trip to the Farm of Friendly Friends and Relatives and was visited by the Spirit of Christmas Cooperation. I must say, despite my travels, I managed to enjoy Chrismukkah, despite the fact that the cross cultural reindeer pinata had to be drawn and quartered because no grown adult could whack its tough skin hard enough to reveal the tasty treats on Christmas Eve.

It was Ila's first Christmas! And she got to see Santa!

So, what was so special about Santa, you ask? It all started when I asked a mother's email list where I could get a photo of Ila with Santa. Now, mind you, I did ask about getting a photo. I didn't ask where she could see good Santa. So, well, lets just say I sorta set myself and Ila up.

After no more than one minute of consideration, I settled on a visit to the Santa in the Woodland Country Fair Mall, otherwise known by local teenagers as the "Dirt Mall." Ila got dressed up in her Grandpa Oakley's baby sweater and cap, a perfectly preserved darling white outfit with a tiny blue elephant applique on each. As Joel and I proudly toted her up to the Santa Station, I showed her the Christmas trees and pointed out the lights to her. As any reasonable person might guess, I was exposing Ila, for the first time to the spectacle of Christmas (albeit this was the Woodland Mall, not Union Square in San Francisco).

What did Santa's helper say? (By Santa's helper I mean the 18 year old girl at the table ringing up people in the nonexistant line for photos.) Did I hear that right? Oh, yes, I did. She said "Is she a screamer?"

Hmm, I thought, that's odd. Anyone who knows babies knows they need a little time to warm up. Well, push on I shall. I just explained to her that Ila needed a minute to warm up to ensure a good photo.

We decided upon 8 wallet size photos. And Santa's helper replied, "Ok." Then she turned to the photographer and informed him that that we "only" wanted 8 wallet photos. Good lord, I don't really need an 8x10 of Ila with Santa. Where on earth would I put it? Nor did I need to spend more than $20 (which is what the photos cost).

So up to Santa we marched, still proudly, and I noticed that Santa was, well a tad young to be a convincing Santa. He had twinkling blue eyes, true, but his eyebrows were, well dark brown. And he looked a little young in the face.

When I brought Ila up to him, he literally poked her in the stomach like the Pillsbury Doughboy and said "He, He." He apparently had no experience dealing with little babies. It was odd, but still we persisted.

The photo went off without a hitch, and sweet little Ila gave an endearing smile despite harboring 3 teeth buds under her tender gums. The photographer helped us choose a nice photo. And I sat down and waited for them to come out.

Well Joel took off to buy a last minute gift. Having time to kill and no cash, I started talking to the photographer. But not before I was warned by Santa's helper, "you can look at the photos, buy you cannot take them without paying."

The photographer seemed a friendly chap, and I wanted to let him know where I had found out about his stand. He immediately informed me "Oh, I don't work for the mall. These guys do," gesturing to Santa and his helper, "but I'm an independent contracter." He obviously wanted to make a clear delineation between himself and the inferior mall employees.

With a nod of his head, the photographer said, "He" (meaning Santa, but carefully not dignifying him with the moniker) "is the maintenance guy at the mall," and "she" gesturing towards the cashier, "works someplace at the mall." This explained to me why the helper was such a B*&ch and why Santa smelled like Pine Sol.

Well suffice to say, I saw Santa's exact suit, which could be bought off the rack at the Target in the mall, later that night. Oh yeah, I'll be looking for another Santa next year.