Hardly anyone was injured during the making of this picture

Never mind the fact that we showed up at the mall at 9:00 AM on a day that fell way before Thanksgiving. I hate the mall, but Santa loves it. And I love pictures with Santa. And I love coffee, too. Some may speculate that I was overcome by my passion about this photo shoot. Others might argue that the four shots of espresso coursing through my body contributed to the events leading up to my permanently relinquishing the position of parent in charge of Santa pictures. All I know is that it was opening day with the man in red and we were ready to get Henry and Santa: Year Two for our collection.

The last thing I remember before I came to, was requesting a retake (something many before us wanted to do, but instead politely moved on with their unsatisfactory first shot). The next thing I know Greg had his hand on my shoulder shaking it, saying my name loudly.

Here's what went down in the 20 seconds in between as it was explained to me. Apparently not satisfied with the head elf's efforts to get Henry to smile, I snatched the stuffed Elmo out of her hands and began to wave it wildly around while doing a crazy dance (I knew exactly what dance he was talking about) and singing. During one of my signature moves, I flung Elmo around with such force that his stomach exploded, releasing the plastic squeaker inside, sending it flying direcly into the line of famlies waiting behind us, where it narrowly missed the right eye of a four year old boy.

Upon realizing the magnitude of my craziness, I looked down at the sad deflated Elmo in my hand and then at the horrified faces of the people around me. I apologized profusely to the head elf, saying something about really not being one of "those" moms and that I didn't know what happened. Greg immediately ushered Henry out of Santa's village, leaving me to stand by myself in line to pay and contemplate my behavior.

So my apologies go out to everyone at the Flat Irons Crossing mall that fateful morning. I stand by my statement that I am really not one of those moms, and instead plead temporary insanity. I don't get out much these days.


ps. No, Henry is not wearing capris.