Kissing Santa Claus
When I was about 9 or 10, I kissed Santa Claus. Being the shy person that I am, I did not spontaneously act, but instead, my parents saw an opportunity for capturing a childhood memory that misrepresents my personality completely.
I know. I’m not really kissing him in this picture, but I did! This was back before digital cameras, so we had to live with whatever shot ended up on the film. This is what we got.
It is a cute picture, and I’m glad I have it and this memory. I’m wearing a cool 80s shirt covered in colored footprints, and I look innocent and happy. I must be dreaming about sugar plums and fairies and a white Christmas and chestnuts roasting on an open fire.
And Santa looks REAL! That beard is legit.
But if I’m being perfectly honest, this is kind of a creepy incident, despite my sweet appearance. Why did my parents encourage me to kiss a stranger dressed up as another stranger? Why did I go along with it? Who was this guy? Why do we ask our children to participate in such wacky rituals?
However, the point of my post today isn’t to muse about how I look in this picture or the perils of sitting on Santa’s lap or the weird parenting techniques surrounding holiday traditions.
Instead, it is to wish you a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. I enjoy getting to know so many of you through this blog, and I appreciate your support and friendship. I hope you have a wonderful season no matter your celebratory preferences or traditions. I’m blessed and grateful to have you in my life.
May your holiday season be filled with books!