21 December 2012
613
R. Linda:
Well . . . we are still here! Though, we did awake to a dark outside and a darker house. I be off today in case the planets align, and me little family needs me to run around the house pulling me hair out and screaming, "THE WORLD IS ENDING!" but that has not happened . . . yet. What did was we all overslept until 10 a.m. it was THAT dark. I thought it was 4 a.m. and turned back over and slept on. When we finally realised (because O'Hare came in and said, "Iz it Saturday or sum thin?") because the kiddo had SCHOOL, which we had forgotten all about in our slumber.
Jumping out of bed, we got him ready as the old people shuffled in asking, "Wot time be it?" and when told, suddenly came alive and dashing to get dressed like they had to be somewhere. I dunno.
I went out to take the trash to the bin and was immediately hit with sideways rain. This made me pause because at 3 a.m., when Guido came into our room demanding a glass of water, I had looked out the window, and the snow was falling, and everything was white. Now, you'd never know there was any snow. It is all gone! I could see me old neighbour's pergola lights were on. They come on by sensor when it gets dark, so that was interesting. Anyway, the atmosphere is strange, but that isn't stopping me from writing a new story. With the Mayan end of the world at hand, let me get this last one in.
I think I will move to Maine. It seems a lot of stupid things happen up there compared to not much of anything happening in southern New Hampshire, but I digress. The reason I would give a move some thought besides the bobcat story (see me blog - 13 December 2012 "If you are going to save a cat make sure you . . .") be that this next one (which happened in Maine as well) just got me wondering what was in the water up there.
A wee lass named Chantel was excited to see Santa and give him her wish list for Christmas. Now, this is the norm, and all good elves and Santa helpers know it. So when the wee ones arrive all aglow to sit on Santa's lap and have him ask that wonderful question, "And what would you like for Christmas?" they are over the moon to give their wish directly to THE man himself! Especially if you have been an exceptionally good child all year. So imagine little Chantel's surprise when Santa denied her a place on his amble lap and gave off a grouchy demeanour, not to mention a short conversation with the girl that was less than Santa-ish.
But not being put off, this was Chantel's chance and she told the grouchy man in red she wanted an American Girl Doll for Christmas. But Santa said back, "American football!"
A football? Well, no, not an American football, an American Girl DOLL! Gees Santa. And I be sure all this registered in her 6-year-old brain but being shocked that the jolly old elf would come back with a boy's toy, she probably was lost for words! I know I would be.
Well, we shouldn't be too surprised at Santa. As Chantel came up to take her place on his lap (which we know didn't happen), Santa was told it was a "free" visit, not a $20 picture-taking one. There is no policy at the Mall of Maine where one must pay for a photo (sit and snap) or no Santa visit. I don't know of any mall where that applies. And it is the Yule season, and this being SANTA CLAUS, one would think jolly good spirits were in order, and all children and even some silly adults could get a sit on the lap and a-listen to what one wants for Christmas.
One does not expect Santa to have a kickback with the photography people on this sit-and-get-snapped policy that seems non-existent. So what was the problem? A bad day? We all have them, but Santa can't have them or can he?
I'm not defending the man. I think what he did was very un-Christmas-like and not with the spirit of the season at all, no, not at all. But I remember one such visit to our local Santa where we had been in line, and there was a terrible odour towards our front. It was O'Hare who piped up and said quite loudly, "Smells like poop in here!" Yes, he did. He thinks nothing of pointing out flaws or faults as he sees them. And he was right. The one-year-old in front of us smelled of dirty nappy. His mam was complaining to her husband she didn't have time to change him, and even if she did "his cute clothes have so many buttons I'll be an age getting him back together and we waited so long . . ."
Uh oh. Well, Tonya thought the proper thing was to change him, no matter how long it took to get him together, let the line go until she was ready and no one would complain. She was probably correct. BUT nah. Wasn't going to happen. The husband wanted out of the mall, and he was not liking the wait, blah, blah, blah. So Santa was in for a surprise . . . a smelly one.
The baby boy was plonked on his lap, and oh my the smell that came from the plonking. Santa got a whiff instantly and picked the child up to look at his lap. And, you guessed it, big brown wet spot on Santa's velvet red suit. Poor Santa!
But wait, it got better; the husband told Santa that since he was already stained, he just took the picture so they could go. No sorry out of the parents, no here let me pay your dry cleaning bill, no apology to the rest of us who had waited for an hour to see Santa and now we're not going to because Santa . . . well . . .
I've seen children old enough to know better pull at real beards and squirm in laps while kicking Santa in the balls. I've seen drool and snot drip all over Santa's arms and in his beard. I've seen a lot of ill-behaved children and I have to wonder how much Santa's get paid. The loud ear deafening screaming of some wee ones, frightened to the back teeth of a funny-looking guy with white hair and a beard, dressed in a huge red and white suit would be enough for most of them to quit in the first five minutes. So I commend these gents who keep the merry illusion going because I would have a lot in common with Billy Bob Thornton's Bad Santa I would.
Well, I don't know if this particular Maine Santa was having a bad day or if he truly was a Grinch dressed in a Santa suit.
Someone else complained that the Maine Santa scared her daughter and not even a "Ho, ho, ho!" out of the man. So piling up the complaints as rude, grumpy, wouldn't even let one little girl (Chantel) sit on his lap, the mall fired his red-clad arse and hired a jollier, more child-friendly version who is already in residence.
Hum . . . Grinch or Santa?
So the moral to this be, if you love kids, snot, poop, drool and screeching screaming, wiggling babies, and can maintain a jolly personality throughout, then THIS be the job for you. If you can't do just one of those, you need never be dressed in a red suit having your picture taken with anyone under the age of 10.
Okay, I said me piece. I'm done and going to the mall with the kiddos to see our perfectly jolly Santa. I think. OR, I could give them a visit with Santa they never imagined by packing them up to Maine and seeing the Grinch instead. Be memorable. How much you want to wager, me boy Guido would be boasting a "take down!"
Gabe
Copyright © 2012 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
Well . . . we are still here! Though, we did awake to a dark outside and a darker house. I be off today in case the planets align, and me little family needs me to run around the house pulling me hair out and screaming, "THE WORLD IS ENDING!" but that has not happened . . . yet. What did was we all overslept until 10 a.m. it was THAT dark. I thought it was 4 a.m. and turned back over and slept on. When we finally realised (because O'Hare came in and said, "Iz it Saturday or sum thin?") because the kiddo had SCHOOL, which we had forgotten all about in our slumber.
Jumping out of bed, we got him ready as the old people shuffled in asking, "Wot time be it?" and when told, suddenly came alive and dashing to get dressed like they had to be somewhere. I dunno.
I went out to take the trash to the bin and was immediately hit with sideways rain. This made me pause because at 3 a.m., when Guido came into our room demanding a glass of water, I had looked out the window, and the snow was falling, and everything was white. Now, you'd never know there was any snow. It is all gone! I could see me old neighbour's pergola lights were on. They come on by sensor when it gets dark, so that was interesting. Anyway, the atmosphere is strange, but that isn't stopping me from writing a new story. With the Mayan end of the world at hand, let me get this last one in.
I think I will move to Maine. It seems a lot of stupid things happen up there compared to not much of anything happening in southern New Hampshire, but I digress. The reason I would give a move some thought besides the bobcat story (see me blog - 13 December 2012 "If you are going to save a cat make sure you . . .") be that this next one (which happened in Maine as well) just got me wondering what was in the water up there.
A wee lass named Chantel was excited to see Santa and give him her wish list for Christmas. Now, this is the norm, and all good elves and Santa helpers know it. So when the wee ones arrive all aglow to sit on Santa's lap and have him ask that wonderful question, "And what would you like for Christmas?" they are over the moon to give their wish directly to THE man himself! Especially if you have been an exceptionally good child all year. So imagine little Chantel's surprise when Santa denied her a place on his amble lap and gave off a grouchy demeanour, not to mention a short conversation with the girl that was less than Santa-ish.
But not being put off, this was Chantel's chance and she told the grouchy man in red she wanted an American Girl Doll for Christmas. But Santa said back, "American football!"
A football? Well, no, not an American football, an American Girl DOLL! Gees Santa. And I be sure all this registered in her 6-year-old brain but being shocked that the jolly old elf would come back with a boy's toy, she probably was lost for words! I know I would be.
Well, we shouldn't be too surprised at Santa. As Chantel came up to take her place on his lap (which we know didn't happen), Santa was told it was a "free" visit, not a $20 picture-taking one. There is no policy at the Mall of Maine where one must pay for a photo (sit and snap) or no Santa visit. I don't know of any mall where that applies. And it is the Yule season, and this being SANTA CLAUS, one would think jolly good spirits were in order, and all children and even some silly adults could get a sit on the lap and a-listen to what one wants for Christmas.
One does not expect Santa to have a kickback with the photography people on this sit-and-get-snapped policy that seems non-existent. So what was the problem? A bad day? We all have them, but Santa can't have them or can he?
I'm not defending the man. I think what he did was very un-Christmas-like and not with the spirit of the season at all, no, not at all. But I remember one such visit to our local Santa where we had been in line, and there was a terrible odour towards our front. It was O'Hare who piped up and said quite loudly, "Smells like poop in here!" Yes, he did. He thinks nothing of pointing out flaws or faults as he sees them. And he was right. The one-year-old in front of us smelled of dirty nappy. His mam was complaining to her husband she didn't have time to change him, and even if she did "his cute clothes have so many buttons I'll be an age getting him back together and we waited so long . . ."
Uh oh. Well, Tonya thought the proper thing was to change him, no matter how long it took to get him together, let the line go until she was ready and no one would complain. She was probably correct. BUT nah. Wasn't going to happen. The husband wanted out of the mall, and he was not liking the wait, blah, blah, blah. So Santa was in for a surprise . . . a smelly one.
The baby boy was plonked on his lap, and oh my the smell that came from the plonking. Santa got a whiff instantly and picked the child up to look at his lap. And, you guessed it, big brown wet spot on Santa's velvet red suit. Poor Santa!
But wait, it got better; the husband told Santa that since he was already stained, he just took the picture so they could go. No sorry out of the parents, no here let me pay your dry cleaning bill, no apology to the rest of us who had waited for an hour to see Santa and now we're not going to because Santa . . . well . . .
I've seen children old enough to know better pull at real beards and squirm in laps while kicking Santa in the balls. I've seen drool and snot drip all over Santa's arms and in his beard. I've seen a lot of ill-behaved children and I have to wonder how much Santa's get paid. The loud ear deafening screaming of some wee ones, frightened to the back teeth of a funny-looking guy with white hair and a beard, dressed in a huge red and white suit would be enough for most of them to quit in the first five minutes. So I commend these gents who keep the merry illusion going because I would have a lot in common with Billy Bob Thornton's Bad Santa I would.
Well, I don't know if this particular Maine Santa was having a bad day or if he truly was a Grinch dressed in a Santa suit.
Someone else complained that the Maine Santa scared her daughter and not even a "Ho, ho, ho!" out of the man. So piling up the complaints as rude, grumpy, wouldn't even let one little girl (Chantel) sit on his lap, the mall fired his red-clad arse and hired a jollier, more child-friendly version who is already in residence.
 |
| Gone BUT replaced! |
Okay, I said me piece. I'm done and going to the mall with the kiddos to see our perfectly jolly Santa. I think. OR, I could give them a visit with Santa they never imagined by packing them up to Maine and seeing the Grinch instead. Be memorable. How much you want to wager, me boy Guido would be boasting a "take down!"
Gabe
Copyright © 2012 All rights reserved
9 comments:
LMAO
Santa will deserve a Guido take down if he's wearing a fake beard!
I heard the other day on the news of a wee deaf boy going to see Santa and THIS Santa actually signed to him! Touched my heart it did. Perhaps he was the real one hmm? Merry Xmas Everyone and a very Happy and Healthy New Year to all. Especially you Gabe who bring us gifts every time we read one of your stories.
Cappy the sideways rain happened because the polar axis had shifted. At least when I finished that jug of rum you sent me I noticed everything had shifted...or at least looked that way. Is it me?
Happy Christmas Dew!
Uhhh . . . do you think?
somebody got rum?
Well, quite obviously the Captain had rum. Everything appearing sideways is a good indication he drank the whole thing.
LOL I thought YOU were sending drinks! I need a good one!
What? I don't know what he's talking about when he makes his own.
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