Blog Archive

Friday, December 14, 2012

Patent's Friday Poundings: going to see Santa

(and for those who don't get either the title of this post or my name on this blog, my "hash name" is Patent Pounding. Don't know what hashing is? Click here and find out!)

Today we're going to talk about pictures with Santa. Specifically, we're going to talk about parents of young children who drag them to Macy's to meet Santa even though their kids are so young, they find Santa absolutely terrifying.

I don't get this. It's one thing if the kids are older, and they're genuinely excited to see Santa and tell him what they want for Christmas. But for the wee ones who think of Santa like this:


Why bring them? Why force them to sit on his lap?


The really sick part is that the parents' only goal is to get a picture where the kid isn't crying. Dude, seriously? Your kid cries when the doctor gives them a vaccination, too -- maybe you should add that as a stop on your Christmas tour, and get a nice picture of the needle going in!

Of course, I'm sure when I have kids I'll be dragging their terrified, screaming asses down to Macy's as well. Because that's just good parenting.

But when actual babies go to see Santa, it is flipping adorable. My sister took my niece about a week or so ago, and she's cool as a cucumber in her picture. She's too young to find Santa frightening, so she couldn't give two f**ks who's holding her, as long as she's upright and held tight. She mostly just looks bored, like she knows this whole exercise isn't about her at all so she's just waiting for it to be over so she can get back to her vibrating chair with the mobile above it.

She's a seventeen-year-old trapped in a 2-month-old's body. But a seventeen-year-old with a vibrating chair.

Dude. Santa. Get me a vibrating chair for Christmas. It doesn't have to have a mobile above it, but I'm not saying it shouldn't.


Fine, then F**K YOU TOO, SANTA. I HOPE RUDOLPH GETS DRUNK AND CRASHES YOUR STUPID SLEIGH.

CHRISTMAS IS RUINED.

SOMEBODY GET ME THAT CHAIR.

No comments:

Post a Comment