Oh For Shame, Santa Claus

So I hadn't really gotten out of the house all week and it was starting to get me down. Rob noticed this (wasn't hard to notice) and suggested we drive down to Ogden today and do some Christmas shopping, get lunch, and have a nice day together. I was so excited. It may seem silly for us to drive all the way to Ogden, but they have Target down that way, and Target is a magical place where all of Vienna's dreams come true.

That's just what we did. We drove down, went to Target, had lunch, and were having a grand old time. We decided to go to Newgate Mall to do a bit more shopping. As we walked in, we saw the area designated for the Santa, where boys and girls of all ages could line up and get their pictures taken as they tell the jolly old fellow the Christmas wishes of their sweet little hearts. Santa wasn't there at the time, but I saw his empty red-and-white striped wingback chair and my heart was filled with its own little Christmas wish: to take my baby girl's picture with Santa Claus on this, her first Christmas. There was a sign that said when Santa would be back, and we agreed that if we were still shopping we'd come back and check it out.

The time came so we got in the small line that had already formed and what to our wondering eyes should appear but Santa Claus himself. He cried out "HO HO HO, MERRY CHRISTMAS!" and waved to all of the children in line. When I saw him I was so excited; he was such a cute Santa; the appropriate age, real white beard, the whole shebang. Not one of those fake-looking creeps who are far too common at malls. We continued to wait for a bit while Santa visited with the kids in front of us. Finally when there was only one family left in front of us, one of Santa's elves asked us if we were planning on buying pictures.

We told her no, as the cheapest picture package was $22. The elf glanced down at my wrist at my camera hanging there by its strap and she said "Just so you know, no personal cameras are allowed."

WHAT?! I told her that was okay because I'm not the type to get confrontational or make a scene. Then I looked at Rob and said, "Should we go?" and he nodded and we stepped awkardly over the gate to the "North Pole." The North Pole of greed and commercialism, that is.

Seriously? Seriously. I was in shock. We got in the car to go home and I started to cry. I know that was probably an overreaction and I'm sure you guys are all judging me right now, but I was really, really disappointed.

All I wanted was a cute picture of my baby with Santa for her first Christmas. I just wanted that photo so I could show it to Nolie and say, "This is the first time you met Santa Claus. Look how sweet and little you were." Next year she'll probably be afraid of him and she'll be sobbing hysterically or something, but this year would have been perfect. She was being so smiley and cute, she's not afraid of strangers yet, and she was even wearing the Christmas hat I made her. And come on. Red-and-white striped wingback chair. REAL BEARD.

I know I overreacted. I know it's probably silly to want to take a baby as little as mine is to see Santa. She won't remember. But it was a little thing that was important to me. And I know it's a business and they need to make money, but I'm sorry, I think it's criminal and ridiculous to charge people $22 for a 5x7 photo with a tacky candy cane border, and to prohibit them from using their own cameras. And if this is gonna be the rule, then they should advertise that fact BEFORE you wait 20 minutes in line. They probably omit this detail deliberately because they think that when you finally get to the front and find out you can't take your own pictures, you'll just pay them their dumb money because you won't want to have waited in line for nothing, and of course you'd look so cheap and stupid if you actually got out of line at that point. Well, cheap and stupid we may be, but not stupid enough to pay them an outrageous sum for their crappy pictures. And the thing that upsets me most is that I think that's totally against the spirit of Christmas and proof of the immortal words of Charlie Brown that Christmas is too commercial.

I'm still really sad about it. Our ward doesn't have enough kids to warrent a Santa at the Christmas party, St. Nick does not make an appearance at any of our family gatherings, and heaven knows I won't let another mall make a fool out of me, so I don't think Nolie will get to meet Santa this year, and my Christmas wish will be unfulfilled.

But after all is said and done, I did get to take this picture, of my sweet baby girl at her first Christmas time, in a magical place, with a jolly fellow with a real beard who loves her more than all of the Santas in all the malls in all the world. And I got all of this for free.