So yesterday I took my son to see Santa.

Well, not to “see him” see him, as we are not telling him that the fat man brings him gifts. Shoo – thats okay if y’all do. I am just selfish. If I do all the work searching for the perfect present – I want the credit.

Anyways, monkey is still too young to get into all of that crap – so I thought seeing Santa might be cool for him. As we were walking in the mall. Boom. Santa came into view.

“Santa?” My sweet little three year old started to reach out for him like Santa was the last cookie in a cookie store. “You want to say hi?”, yeah I agree. I musta been high when I asked him that.

So, onto the short line we went.

We walk up to the old man and my son freaks. All he wants me to do is hold him. So I, being the ever awesome mother that I am (stop laughing), obliged.

But heres the thing. I am, shall we say……a little well endowed? Ha. A little. Anyways, I was also wearing my favorite shirt, which is old so you tug a little on the collar? Boom the sisters come out for a visit, if I’m not careful. Yes. This has happened before.

Anyways, my son was clinging onto me for dear life, which meant he was pulling down the collar. Yeah. My cleavage was in full view. First thing? My son was barely talking to Santa – he’s naturally a shy boy. Second? The entire time?

Santa was talking to my boobs.

Thank you very much Santa for traumatizing me.

Blech. And what made it even worse? He was talking to my son like he was high. Ewwwww…..I just had a thought. What if he was…….ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww………………………not finishing that thought.

So onto the best part of the story, after feeling violated enough – I tell my son its time to go.


And proceeds to reach out to him like I am pulling him away from the only parent he has ever known.


Monkey, its okay. You’ll see Santa later (I have no idea. I was just trying to shut the kid up).

SANTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Insert loud shriek from Diva here, cause of course she will not be out done by her measly older brother). And I die of total embarrassment as we walk the entire length of the mall to the car.


Thanks Santa.