We were supposed to see Santa at the Christmas parade on Saturday, but everyone was sick. Luckily, the fat man was hanging around an extra day at the Festival of Trees, so we were able to go on Sunday. Ruby was very concerned with telling Santa what she wants for Christmas.
One of the adjustments of moving to a smaller town, is that…everything is smaller. We went to the Festival of Trees in Baltimore last year, and it kind of made this one look like a Festival of Tree. But it was a lot of fun and we met a lot of friendly people. When we first arrived, there were two sparkly purple fairies hopping about, having their pictures taken with children. Ruby would not go near the fairies. This was worrisome, as it made me wonder if she would also be scared of Santa. I finally convinced Ruby that maybe we could go ask the fairies where Santa was, but sadly theses were not the talking kind of fairies. They just jingled their head-bells and grinned maniacally, so Ruby was even more freaked out.
We discovered, via asking a normal human, that Santa was down the street at the craft fair, so we headed over. When we arrived, there was Santa, handing out candy canes and talking to children. This was when Ruby started crying. Not, as it turns out, because she was afraid of Santa, but because she couldn’t remember everything she wanted for Christmas, and was sure to leave something out. “We should have made a list!” she wailed loudly in the middle of the craft fair.
She finally agreed to go over there, provided we made a longer list later and mailed it to him, and we rehearsed the two things she could remember to tell him: Toy Story 3 toys and a blue watch. I don’t know if she actually said anything to him when she got over there. She seemed to just stand there in shock and horror, but she got a candy cane, and seemed happy to have seen him. I asked her what Santa said to her, and she told me he had asked her if she wanted an American Girl doll. Thanks a lot Santa. Now Ruby wants an American Girl Doll. I WAS DONE SHOPPING!
We had to leave the event to get across the lake where we were attending a holiday pot luck dinner at my mother’s church. The pots were not lucky. I am not kidding when I tell you that half of the dishes were scalloped potatoes, and the other half were “vegetable” dishes containing either jello, or marshmallow, or, in one case, both. The dinner was going fine. Some middle school band was playing religious music and we were getting ready for dessert, when my worst nightmare happened.
There we were, having a perfectly fine time, when what to my wondering eyes should appear, but Santa Claus! ANOTHER Santa Claus. I was not prepared for this. I know that during any given holiday season one is likely to run into several different versions of old Saint Nick, but not on the same DAY! Not hours apart from each other! I was wracking my brain, trying to think of ways to explain Santa’s sudden growth spurt and louder voice, when they invited the kids up to the front to sing songs with him. Ack!
I was relieved to see Ruby firmly behind Santa, dancing like a crazy monkey to “Jingle Bells” and “Up on the Housetop.” “Don’t turn around Santa,” I prayed. “Ruby, stay behind him, don’t look at his face.” I only turned away for a minute, but when I turned back to the stage, I saw, to my horror, Kris Kringle leading the children out of the hall like a jolly old pied piper. “Where are they going!?” I asked my mother in a panic.
“Oh, they’re going to go sit on his lap, and he’s going to give them candy canes,” she told me. Well, I thought that was it. Time for a difficult conversation. But when we finally found Ruby again, she was so excited to have another candy cane, she didn’t mention Santa at all. I didn’t bring it up, and we never discussed it. Maybe she was too scared to look first Santa in the eye, and never saw what he really looked like? Maybe she just didn’t notice that they looked different? I mean, they were dressed the same. Maybe she did notice, and just attributed his slightly different look to Christmas magic? I don’t know. But whatever happened, we all wound up happy and excited, and no problems were caused by the Double Santa all the way. But let me tell you, if it was starting to look like a Triple Santa, I was out of there.