The boy and I had a fabulous, busy day yesterday.
We started the day off right: we went to see the big man himself, Santa. I had been anticipating his reaction to Santa for a while. My boy is not one to know strangers, so I didn't think the fat guy in red would scare him, but, you know, I see all these kids screaming their heads off on Santa's lap, and I just start to wonder.
Cohen was a Santa pro. He walked right up to Santa, let Santa pick him up, and promptly pulled on his beard. That's my boy. Nothing says, "I've been a good boy all year" like tugging on Santa's facial hair.
Santa was a champ though. He was really sweet with my boy. And he looks like what I envision Santa to look like, too. Not one of the typical creepy mall Santas. I will say Santa's elves need to take a photography class or two if they're going to charge that much on the pictures. It took all I had to keep myself from grabbing their camera and snapping away.
I've become that person. I'm slightly ashamed.
How perfect was it that I got the same pose two years in a row? And how grown up does my boy look this year compared to last year?
And, let's be honest, how snuggly does 2010 Cohen look? Makes my ovaries sigh just a little bit.
Afterwards, we headed to the playground in the mall. That boy loves this place. See? I'm not even joking. The first thing he did when we walked in was hug that giant pink pig.
He's becoming a bit of a wild man. I blame it on him watching all the big kids and desperately wanting to be like them. By the time we left, he was climbing on top of that caterpillar. Not kidding. He also learned how to climb the steps on a little slide and slide down. All by himself. I mean, does he even need me at all anymore?
I knew it was time to go when I saw the little man in the corner with the look of concentration all over his face. You know what I'm talking about. So after a quick pit stop at the family restroom, we decided to share a slice of pizza. Only, the boy didn't share. I'm not even exaggerating when I say that my son ate the entire slice of pizza, leaving me maybe a bite or two.
If the pizza slice didn't cost $5, I would have gotten myself another one. But alas, I'm poor, and even as I was paying for the first slice, the little voice in my head kept reminding me that I could feed my whole family a meal for $5. I should have felt quilty, but those few bites of pizza that I got were good.
Later on, we headed up to the church to pass out free food and share the Gospel to the people participating in the Christmas parade. I am so proud to to be a part of my church and those faithful people who show up to do the work of the Lord.
We skipped the parade because, at the risk of sounding un-American, parades don't do it for me. Instead we snuggled up under a blanket and watched a few episodes from Season 4 of The O.C.
I don't really know how a day could be any better.