Christmas 1995
As I'm busy finishing up Christmas presents (I'm down to the wire, I know), I thought I'd let you know about a contest. Paula Prass, designer extraordinaire, is hosting a giveaway on her blog open to anyone who sends her a funny photo of kids NOT having fun while getting their picture taken with Santa. Check it out, the photos are sure to make you laugh, and while you're there, vote for your favorite. Here's my submission:
I can remember things from when I was really young. Like going to see Santa. He lived in an A-frame shack that was put up in the town square next to the fountain. With my dad carrying me, we opened the door, stepped in, got within three feet of the big jolly guy, and I started screaming and climbing up and over my dad's shoulders and on top of his head. I know I was really young because he still had hair then. Come to think of it, I could be the reason he went bald... Anyway, I was apparently headed for the rafters and was going to swing my way outta there like a monkey. There are no pictures of me with Santa. Go figure. What does it mean that I'm now 50 years old and still traumatized by the event? Worse, what does it mean that I endangered my own children's mental health by putting them on Santa's lap for a photo shoot? Therapy? Yea, I'm thinking about it.
Merry Christmas, everyone!