naughty or nice...

We took Ethan to see Santa Clause for the first time this year. Yeah. He's three. I just never really felt like doing it when he was a baby. I kinda feel like that's admitting to being a horrible parent-but then it gets worse. He didn't even get to go to the Mall and see Santa's magical wonderland, complete with Elves, fake snow, and a possible reindeer sighting...no. He got to go up to an old Polaris Dealership-turned-Christian Center and sit on Old St. Nick's lap in a big warehouse. But, hey, in my defense, it was a 5 minute drive and free, and I had serious doubts about whether Ethan would even be willing to get within 10 feet of Santa. 

We psyched him up for the event and he was running circles around us all the way there- so excited to tell Santa he wants a crane with a claw and wood for it to pick up (just like the 20 foot tall one at the children's museum...its go big or go home around here.) We practiced the questions Santa would ask and how Ethan would respond and even go the "Thank you, Santa." at the end down pat. As we stood in line I pointed out all the other kids sitting on his knee and Ethan was running around laughing and excited. And then I said, "Ethan, it's your turn!" and he came as physically close to being in the fetal position as is possible while still standing. He just caved in on himself. I got him up there and he instantly turned his body away and pretended he couldn't hear a word Santa said to him. I was so embarrassed  I could have taken crying-doesn't every parent just sort of expect that? But pretending you can't see or  hear him? I didn't know what to do. Santa tried for a solid three minutes to get a response but no luck so they got him down and gave him a treat bag. We walked back down to the other end of the building and started getting ready to go when Ethan said:

"Mom, I want to go see Santa."

Uh, yeah right, Ethan. Maybe next year.
Maybe.