Santa? No thanks.

Oh Santa, Santa, Santa... Brooke wants nothing to do with you, my friend. Nothing. Like please don't come within 50 feet of her. If she were old enough, she might just file a restraining order against you. If you would shave your beard and mustache you might have a chance with her. And I say might because you're still wearing a goofy outfit and have an oddly deep voice. Don't get me wrong, she loves cartoon-you. Pictures of you, drawings of you, stuffed little versions of you - she adores those. She even says "Ho" if you ask her what Santa says (just one "Ho", not 3.) But real-life you? A big fat No Thanks!

We had breakfast with Santa this morning. Clearly, it did not go well. Not at all surprising. In fact, before the husband even had a chance to give Brooke to Santa, I warned him that she would be a screamer. It wasn't 2 full seconds after being placed on his lap that she lost it. Just giant sobs. After I snapped a few of the obligatory photos, I passed off the camera and attempted to console my sad little lady. Santa tried to bribe her with a present in exchange for fewer tears, but it didn't work. She was all "Screw the present, Mom. Get me outta here!" Oh well, it was hilarious from start to finish & we now have the 1st Visit with Santa photo to show all her friends when she's 12 :)

After traumatizing her with a visit with Santa, she got to share a donut with Mommy. So all was forgiven. Oh and she got to open her present. (She opened the present one tiny piece of wrapping paper at a time. Christmas morning is going to take FOREVER!) We were the best parents ever at that point - definitely forgiven!