Last Sunday evening, my mom and I took Punky on the Santa Express. It is run by a local railroad as a special treat for kids this time of year. I heard about it through a friend at work and quickly purchased tickets. From the adult perspective, it was actually kind of lame, but Punky had a great time.
I was never on a real train before, at least not that I can remember. When we boarded, we passed through a dining car and then into a coach car to find a comfy seat. The kids were asked to wear pajamas and bring a favorite blanket to snuggle. Once we departed the station, Santa's elves came through and talked to the kids. They passed out pictures for them to make with stickers and sang a Christmas song or two. A mere fifteen minutes down the tracks, we arrived at the North Pole.
From the hype, I kind of expected more than just painted, wooden cut-outs of buildings, reindeer, and presents, but the young kids were in awe of all the lights and the sight of Santa waving to them sparked giggles throughout the train. Then we stopped briefly while the big guy himself boarded to hitch a ride with us.
When Punky saw him appear in the aisle, she was dying to run right to him. Waiting your turn is extremely hard when you're two. Once I got a good look at him, I got really nervous. He looked nothing at all like the Santa she chatted with at the mall just a week earlier. Mall Santa was much older, thinner (not skinny, just a naturally chunky man with no extra padding needed), he had a short, real beard and glasses. This one was maybe early forties or so with the stereotypical fake wig and excessively long beard and an obvious pillow stuffed in his suit. Punky had looked at the mall picture at least fifty times that week; surely she would notice the difference.
I held my breath as he approached our seats, but she didn't notice a thing. She greeted him with the same enthusiasm as mall Santa and took the opportunity to remind him that she wants a trampoline for Christmas. Their interaction went off without a hitch, and he stayed right next to Punky while he chatted with the group of kids behind us. Six siblings, all old enough to know the truth about Santa, took turns visiting with him and getting their pictures taken.
This Santa had a sense of humor and joked around a bit with these older kids. He teased one about trying to impress the girls with his Justin Bieber haircut. It caused a mighty chuckle between the siblings and the mom quickly spoke up and revealed why: she was a little girl, not a boy. It was obvious that Santa felt like a big jackwad, but in his defense I must say I thought she was a boy, too. Then the mom felt the need to add, "This is the second Santa this year that thought you were a boy!" And I wanted to smack her. No regard whatsoever for the little kids on the train. Second Santa this year. Idiot.
Anyway, after he had a chance to visit with all the kids, we dropped Santa back off at the North Pole and returned to the station. It couldn't come fast enough for me. As soon as Santa was out of sight, Punky turned into a total brat. The last twenty minutes on that train lasted an eternity.
Today I took Punky to the children's Christmas party hosted by my company. I never hesitated to take her anywhere because she was always so well behaved, but lately I have my reservations. I did not want a repeat of the train episode in front of all my co-workers, that's for sure. The poor kid had to endure multiple lectures from us before we left this morning, and I even went as far as to threaten to cancel Christmas at our house if she acted up at the party. I know that seems harsh, but I was desperate and it worked. She was an angel.
Of course no children's Christmas party would be complete without a visit from the big guy, and I definitely thought I was pushing my luck introducing Santa number three in a two-week period, but again she didn't notice a difference. This one distracted her right away with a real present before she even sat on his lap, but it didn't make her forget about the trampoline. She wasn't taking her chances; to my dismay, she reminded him once again.
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