Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Ping, meet Santa!

Daughter #1: Daddy DADDY DADDY!!! Can I get my picture taken with Santa!
Wife: Sure! We can go this weekend and you can sit on his lap and get your picture taken with him!
Me: Huh?
Daughter #1: And DADDY, can Ping come and meet Santa too?!
Wife: Absolutely! Ping will love it!
Me: Wha?!
Wife: Alright! Everyone go get in the van! We're going to go see Santa!
Me: Whats going on?

If you've been stuck here reading some of my older (and by older I mean, maybe yesterday) posts, you may have noticed that Ping didn't really do all that well with me at the beginning... middle... or as of yet... I think its something about the big hairy white male thats a bit of a problem for her.

So yea, I was a little worried about taking this cute adorable terrified Chinese girl to not only go meet yet another hairy bushy burly white man. I could see this ending very poorly. I mean, the similarities between me and Santa are staggering. Both white males. Both could stand to loose a few pounds. Both have long hair. Beards... I'm far more rough and rugged... but still, I think the similarities are there that Ping is gonna FREAK out when she meets Santa.

Me: Uh, do you really think that its such a great idea to try to get Ping on Santas lap? I mean, she didn't really like me... and its cuz I was hairy...
Wife: Oh, its too late to stop! The wheels have been set in motion and there is no going back now.

We walk into the mall. Normally, a refuge of peace and tranquility... for the women. For us men, its more like walking into a battle field. Between the feel of Christmas shopping, and preparing for the potential break down as we toss our poor helpless daughter into the arms of a stranger, my mind starts to wander (as it is prone to do). As I walk up the stairs of the mall entrance, I feel like Mel Gibson in BraveHeart - my face painted blue and wearing a kilt, I was ready to do what I had set out to do.

With steeled determination we set forth though the mall! Fighting through throngs of people helplessly falling victim to the sales on the left and the right, I kept my focus singular and straight. There was a smoldering passion ignited inside of my inner most being. The type of passion which can only be ignited by loosing something so precious and dear that all other distractions in life pale in comparison. Even the voices of loved ones fall on deaf ears!

Son #1: Dad! Slow down! The others can't keep up!
Son #1: What?!
Me: Don'cha see it laddie! Look! Ov' der! The Jolly Red guy! Das wh're we git ta get ta!
Son #1: Mom... Dad's doing that weird thing again!
Wife: He thinks he's Mel Gibson from BraveHeart again.
Son #1: Again?! I thought the therapist took care of that.
Wife: Oh just deal with it.
Son #1: Fine. *siiiigh* Wallace! E can't a take the hill alone! E've got ta wait for tha oth'rs!
Me: What?! Are dey with us, or not! Are ye men! Are ye FREE men!
Son #2: *finally catches up* Hey, oh, hey... oh... Why is Dad painting his face blue? Oh.
Son #1: Yea.
Son #2: Can I go wait in the van?
Wife: No, you can not. We've got to get Ping and her sister to Santa.
Me: 'Er be the dirty 'brits! They be 'round us all! Look at 'em. Milling about, as if they own our lands!
Wife: Those are just the other shoppers love.
Me: Do ye not know that this be our lands!
Wife: Boys, I'm gonna go wait over there... you guys stay with Mel and the girls. Try to steer your father towards Santa.

We finally did get to Santa, and after quite a wait, and a few fights along the way, the girls got their picture taken with Santa.

And that's great. What was awesome was that Ping was totally fine with Santa!


Just fine.

No crying.

Even though he was a male... you know... like me. Albeit without a blue painted face... and far less rough and rugged.

And even though he had facial hair... she was fine. I mean, its not like I didn't have facial hair which terrified her... but hey, no thats great. I'm really happy that she just climbed up on his lap and smiled for the camera.

Oh, and he had long hair too. Yea, like me. But I could see where my hair would be scary, whereas Santas hair wasn't.


I'm so happy that Ping just climbed up on a total strangers lap and cuddled in for a picture.

*siiiigh* :-)


  1. over from "and then there were seven"

    When Princess did this to me (she chose to completely and totally reject Mommy), and she played, interacted, and be held by other women I told myself "it's because she recognizes I'm special to her."

    it didn't really help, but I felt better for saying it to myself. ;)

  2. No one can compare with Santa so take heart!!