My son is now eight months old, and has many talents. He can crawl, hold his bottle, offer a high-five to his friends, say “mama,” and tolerate weird strangers. Though often overlooked, the last of […]
My son is now eight months old, and has many talents. He can crawl, hold his bottle, offer a high-five to his friends, say “mama,” and tolerate weird strangers. Though often overlooked, the last of those talents is a big one. Oliver loves new people, and tolerates even the craziest of strangers. He rarely cries when being held by others, and appreciates the opportunity to make new friends.
A grocery store stranger recently came up to him and grabbed his toes, without warning. To explain her actions, she proclaims “I’m a Mimi that loves feetsies!! I love feetsies!” Rather than punch her, or sarcastically say “you love feces?”, Oliver greeted the crazy eyed lady with a smile. Classy baby.
Because of this remarkable tolerance, my wife and I were hoping to introduce Oliver to Santa. He loves being around new people, he thinks that beards are interesting, and red happens to be his favorite color. I simply cannot see this going wrong. On the other hand, we have multiple friends who have attempted the Santa picture with little success. Their babies look like they want to set Mr. Claus’ beard on fire. The plethora of crying baby pictures on my Facebook feed have convinced me to ultimately avoid the Santa picture this year.
For Oliver’s well-being, I will not be introducing him to a Mall Santa. Instead, these brave friends and their frightened babies have inspired me to create a “Santa Reconciliation Project” for adults that were introduced to Santa as children. I plan on reintroducing a bunch of traumatized adults to creepy old Mall Santas, and taking pictures as they awkwardly hold hands. You can send me my Nobel Peace Prize in the mail. You are welcome.