LL's Pictures with Santa, Take Two!

... And this one came in it's own fancy-dancy card!

Please note *pulls out laser pointer* the coffee cup stains *points to coffee cup stains* and pen markings *points to ma's signature phone doodle, 'hi!'*

Clearly this card was as treasured as it was intended to be, making my suffering through more poorly-costumed Santa laps well worth the effort. That said, considering this diddy is circa 1984-85, and the fact my mother has a nasty habit of throwing out anything not physically nailed to the floorboards, I'm shocked this actually made the move from not one, not two, but three houses (in two separate provinces!)

Thanks, mom, for the nod to nostalgia.

Inside the decorative card you get a great snap of me and my bestie, Ryan (this was pre-Fingers... although she lived in the 'hood, I was more into riding Big Wheels with the boys than playing with stinky girls..) Again, I apologize for the picture quality.

What you won't be able to see in this one, especially beyond my blinding outfit, is that I'm once again not willing to sit on Santa's lap. While Ryan is comfortably seated, I'm awkwardly leaning against Santa's knee going to town on my candy cane (which no doubt had to be given preemptively in order to get me up near the big guy to begin with.) Santa himself has clearly given up on charming both of us, as he hasn't even bothered to look at the camera during our snap... To be fair, this is probably his thousandth of the day which would be a hard day's work at the legendary JS mall (scene to the childhood nightmare Fingers and I refer to as "the guy who threw lit matches at us".. but that's another story altogether...)

*sigh*

The last time I visited Santa with the intent to sit on his lap was during my undergrad when Beef and I thought we'd wow mom and dad with a cutesy sisterly photo shoot. Unfortunately, once again Santa oozed the "no feeling" resulting in yet another awkward picture with me standing slightly off to the side. I think it was when he asked me if I wanted a boyfriend for Christmas...

A couple of years ago I made the trek out to a pet store with Gary (the cat, not the uncle) as a Christmas gift for the human sea cucumber. This time around it wasn't Santa that creeped the little guy out (that cat, not the cucumber) but the other kittens on display at the store. He seriously couldn't have gotten out of there quicker, and barely made it through the shot without peeing his wee fluffy pants.

All in all, me and photos with Santa are like egg nog... just wrong. But I can definitely leave you with a Santa I'd actually pay to spend time with. It's probably best if he sits on my lap, though, because I'd probs smother him with my big butters.

Look at those wee boots... Hmm? Squishy.