Friday, December 4, 2009

Scary Santa visits McAlister's

Okay since I can't even remember what I was going to post regarding volleyball I am moving forward to today's events.

Taylor and the older girls are in our church's Christmas event called Journey to Bethlehem, where thousands of people walk through the set of Bethlehem, complete with Roman soldiers, live animals, merchants, blacksmith (T's job on the set), etc. It is awesome because the end of the journey is not the manger, it is the cross, and the plan of salvation is presented. Now I talk about going to this as though I know a bunch about it, but I have never been because someone in our family usually needs mama to stay home and help them get well. And that's okay because I am a huge wimp about being cold outside. BUT when my crew gets a little older (SB and J) perhaps we'll be a part of it too.

So tonight SB, J and I made our own journey to Target and McAlister's. My nephew is turning 2 so we spent about 30 minutes studying all Batman related toys before deciding on a car that will take Joker down if he shows his face in Gotham City. Okay and then moving on to getting toys for the names we chose from the Angel Tree at church. And while I found stocking hangers for the mantle, J proceeded to "swim" along the bottom shelf, covering himself in all various forms of dust and dirt, making his entire blue shirt and jeans take on a gray appearance. BTW "swimming" in dust at Target is not a good plan for a child with asthma. Just a side note.

Now I probably have the weakest stomach of anyone I know (except my sweet Deana) so although there was much begging to have dinner at the Target food court, I remembered I had a gift card with a balance at McAlister's. So being the fine Political Science major that I am, I presented a strong enough argument to convince 2 children that this was a much better (and cleaner) choice. Honestly if I were to blog about all the food issues I have, you would put a check mark next to neurotic and have all sorts of ammo to chat about behind my back....so we left for McAlister's. And then on the way there J starts to say he just wants to eat at home. Realizing this was absurd, my quick-witted Sarah Beth tells brother, "Well Uncle Larry eats at McAlister's all the time. Don't you want to be like Uncle Larry? He's so nice to buy tea for Aunt Lala there." Now on a side note again, Aunt Lala hates McAlister's and the tea is not for her, it's for Uncle Larry. BUT that was all it took, because Uncle Larry and Aunt Lala (Laura) are rock stars.

THEN I arrive and find that kid's meals for dine-in are 99 Cents--even better. So we order, even spring for a sugar cookie. Toward the end of the meal some guy who looks like Santa approaches the table and leans in toward my kids (close talker) and says "do you know who I am?" Of course they are dumbfounded and cannot believe this man is so close to us. Then he reaches in his pocket and pulls out these stickers which say "I Met Santa" and passes them out. I did not get one btw. He announces his Santa-ness and asks if there will be cookies for him. And then, I kid you not, he asks Sarah Beth, "Now will you leave the door open so I can come in on Christmas Eve?" She nods and asks what type of cookie he would like. Oh brother...so this guy leaves "ho ho ho-ing" from our table. AND at that point while I am trying to decide if this man is either drunk or delusional, J announces he needs to throw up (which makes me feel sick too, but I am happy to announce I held it together as I ran 90 to nothing to the McAlister's bathroom but leaving my keys on the table and praying they wouldn't take my sweet tea away).

We bolt to the bathroom and sure enough...and I am wondering is this due to asthma or Santa? But at that point, does it really matter? So I am going to go out on a limb here and state that we don't really do Santa at our house and never have. The prospect of someone being able to break into the house without us knowing was a little much for Peyton when she was around 3yo and she was super afraid, so we came clean. We pretend and have fun, and don't rain on anybody's parade though. I sort of felt like telling this well-meaning Santa/close talker that it's just not how we roll, but I had a feeling it would be lost on him. But I left with my sweet tea and keys, and we had a long talk about how we don't leave our doors unlocked on Christmas or any other random night.

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