Monday, November 23, 2015

Once More With Feeling

Oh goody, it's time once again for the annual trek to the mall for Santa pictures!  This always goes so well!

Why do I do this to myself?  Why have I made this so important, yet know it's going to be a total mess almost every year (last year being the exception and I'm pretty sure Chris is taking credit for this anomaly)?  These are things I should discuss with a good therapist, which I am putting on my Christmas list.

So today was the day.  This being an incredibly busy week, preparing for the Descent of the In-laws, I had to schedule every little thing, and this was the only opportunity to get this done before the mall becomes filled with stark raving, heat seeking bargain missiles (more than usual).  I'm glad I cheeked before leaving and found out Santa sleeps in a bit on Monday mornings and wouldn't be around until an hour after the mall opened, so I was able to rearrange my game plan and hit up the shopping we needed to do first.  That was very smooth. The kids picked out gifts for each other and Dad, and we finished up presents for the cousins, and all was well.  We discovered Santa's village had moved to the opposite end of the building by accident, but it meant we didn't make a long, unnecessary trek that would surely have brought on The Whines.  So yay!  This was going good!

Unfortunately, a few more people had caught onto my game and there was a bit of a line, but whatever.  My kids are bigger now, they can handle a tiny wait.  The line was actually moving at a good clip, which made me a little nervous that we'd be pushed through super quickly.  But we could do it, sure we could.  We were second in line when I noticed that Sammy had something on his collar.  It looked wet.  What he's done or how he'd done it, I have no idea, but there was a big, ugly spot front and center.  Grrrrrr.  Can't we do anything without trouble???

I started rubbing on the spot and told Sammy we'd have to let the people behind us go first, and he wasn't happy, but them's the breaks.  Luckily, the good fairies of stain removal looked down upon me and I was able to fix the ugly spot, at least mostly, by the time it was our turn (again).  The elf/photographer/only person working how do they staff this business and I  got the kids situated with Santa, and we started snapping, all the while singing my familiar tune: "Sit up straight! Smile!  No, smile normally!  Eyebrows down, Sammy!  Sabrina, no side eye!  Look here!  Look here!  Look heeeeeeeeeeeeeere!!!"  It was a charming 30 seconds, let me tell you.

I wasn't happy with the full length shots, but I got the elf to zoom in so I don't have to look at scuffed sneakers all year long (faces, we all want faces, photo elves, this is not hard).  It's not my favorite picture (they can do better, even with Sammy's inherited Chandler Face, ahem Chris), but I was just so relieved to have something halfway decent that I didn't care I was forking over even more money for fewer prints that ever and I just wanted to be done.  I snatched those prints away and headed for the parking lot.

I quickly put the large print in a frame, but but wasn't until later that I looked at the other 3 prints.  Or should I say 2 and a 1/2, because the medium sized print cuts Sabrina right in half.  Nice.  So this means a return trip to the mall... sometime.  I have a bone to pick with an elf.

But hey, nobody looks like a member of the cast of The Walking Dead.  I give you Santa Picture 2015.

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