Let me preface this by saying that 2008 saw The Kid giving uncertain looks at Santa just long enough for the photographer to snap a picture, then the screaming began. In 2009 the screaming began as we walked up to Santa in the Mall of America. Though in his defense it had been a long two weeks of mommy and daddy dragging him around a cruise ship and sticking him in a tuxedo repeatedly while they posed for endless pictures in fancy clothes he wasn't allowed to touch. (ah, weddings.) And then, instead of going home we had the audacity to drag him to visit weird people in a weird state when all he wanted to do was get on an airplane and GO HOME! And of course we can't forget the joy that was 2010. He was very excited to see Santa that year because he was just starting to get the idea that Santa gave him presents. He insisted on getting all dressed up, wearing slacks, a button up shirt, and a choo-choo sweater. He stood in line patiently and even drew Santa a picture while we were waiting. Then he hit Santa's lap. And the screaming started. As well as the kicking.
On to the promised tale of how my child became obsessed with Santa Claus. So a couple weeks before Christmas, the joy that is Facebook allowed me to see a video that my cousin's daughter received from Santa.
*SPOILER ALERT, Hide the children's eyes.*
A video from Santa that my cousin had created. This thing was completely customizable. You enter the kid's name, add a few pictures, tell them what he wants for Christmas, decide if he's naughty or nice and *POOF* The Portable North Pole sends a video to your kid featuring Santa talking directly to him and ends with the elves checking the machine to see which list the kid is on. If he's nice, Santa congratulates him. If he's naughty, Santa tells him he still has a chance, he just needs to watch his behavior.
So I made one for The Kid and stuck him on the naughty list. He's three and testing limits every chance he can get. I was about to pull out all of my hair and scream myself hoarse. When he saw Santa, and then heard Santa say his name The Kid flipped out. His eyes grew to the size of saucers and he was glued to my laptop. He was so excited to that Santa had a book all about him, complete with pictures and a knowledge of what we'd done this year. When the elves stuck his paper in the big machine, he held his breath until the light lit up to say which list he was on. When Santa told him he was on the naughty list, he deflated. But then Santa said he still had time to get on the nice list...
This video had just handed me a tool that I could whip the kid with repeatedly and never once hurt him physically or emotionally. All kids recover from the belief in Santa eventually and they never even need therapy. Woot! He quickly figured out that mommy and daddy have a direct line to Santa. So all we had to say was "I'm calling Santa." or "Santa's not going to like this behavior." or "You're never going to get to the Nice list acting like this." and he's stop and become a perfect child for a short time.
So Santa became an obsession. And when it came time to sit on Santa's lap for a picture, we got smiles and chatting instead of kicking and screaming. My life was wonderful. And then, on Christmas Eve, The Kid got a new video from Santa telling him made the Nice list. Which set off the desperate need to thank Santa with cookies and milk. And ultimately resulted in the biggest smile you've ever seen when he came out Christmas morning and saw the mountain of presents surrounding the much coveted KITCHEN.
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