The line for the Santa’s lap shenanigans in this small, unpopular mall was around the corner six days before Christmas. I counted 87 people in line, give or take a few kids running in and out of the line; most of them would not be sitting on Santa’s lap. Parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, teens, friends all came out to see little Susie’s reaction to the jolly old man in red. Many children in line had been there over an hour already, and you can see the kids getting close to Santa were having a hard time holding themselves together. By the time this particular family reached the “prize,” one of the three munchkins in tow had an all-out meltdown. High-decibel screaming, real tears, throw himself on the floor, temper tantrum without audible words. Completely ruining the moment for the family as a whole and causing a scene that had a small scale, a similar reaction from close by toddlers waiting their turn. The other kids were about three and five years old and looked horrified by their brother’s display of discourteous behavior, who must’ve been about two.
Since I was in the mall to buy gifts (yes, I still leave the house to shop), I took notice of this debacle while standing in line for maybe 3 minutes to order a drink close-by to the Santa shenanigans. What caught my attention was the murmurs of parents I heard behind me telling their offspring that they HAD to sit on Santa’s lap for the traditional family picture. These cherubs were a little older, about 5-6-7 years old. I specifically heard one say she didn’t like the way he looked (she was the oldest in the clan), and the other said: “I think he is creepy.” Mom and dad blew it off and said, “don’t be ridiculous; this one looks better than last year.” The youngest of the crew was quiet and shy following his siblings. Possibly unsure if he wants to please his parents, his siblings, or listen to his inner voice. Maybe even deciding if he knows what that is.
My own inner voice began running a list of questions in my head. The who, what, when, where, why, and how did this tradition begin? I knew the history of the Santa Claus fable and the validity of a saint named Nicholas from Turkey who was kind and giving to children. Still, nowhere had I ever remembered reading or learning about the tradition of sitting on anyone’s lap for a picture. Matter of fact, I couldn’t even remember a time as a little one myself that mom brought me to a mall to sit on a scary-looking stranger’s lap. The earliest recollection I have is as a teen with my friends. Probably more as a dare than anything else. Apparently, my mother didn’t make a big deal over my being a good girl and telling Santa what I wanted for Christmas while sitting on his lap for an outrageous price. I had no idea of life otherwise.
The Shenanigans in our Family
The oldest of my children, born in May 1988, had not been subject to the first Christmas Santa’s lap shenanigans. She was spared the scary tradition as an infant, but my next baby not so much. Born November 1990, my sleeping newborn was put in a stranger’s lap for her first flash along with my 2-year-old who possibly enjoyed the intimidating, large man. Neither protested, and as young, new parents, we didn’t think anything uncomfortable about it. At least this was an all-inclusive shindig at the American Legion party where we knew who was in costume. The next Christmas at the same party with my then one and 3-year-old didn’t go as smoothly.
The one-year-old shared her disdain for all creepy characters for the rest of her childhood. We have pictures to prove it. That’s right; we put a crying baby on a character’s lap in those early years, sometimes. Truthfully, it was the Santa picture we were primarily after, not the other cartoons. Approximately every two years, we added another child to the mix. At the time, I thought she’d be sad if she looked back and didn’t see herself in those early Christmas traditional pictures. Nothing is further from the truth. Indeed, the historical images we fetch out each year without a child or two in them have a better story to tell. Explaining to my now adult daughter, the series of events around specific pictures is almost comical.
While her siblings didn’t balk about the creepy people dressed to impress little ones, this one fear was non-negotiable to this young mind. Even when we went to Disney World, she was 12 years old, walking up to the characters was not her thing, but we do have a few pictures that she was a part of, clearly with trepidation on her face. Today she has children of her own who may or may not like to get close to a character depending on their mood. Still, my daughter subjects them to the same shenanigans — no pressure, no deep-seated scars from her own fears, and no resentment to her parents.
The Importance of the Rouse
As parents, honestly, we let her guide us during her childhood. She taught us to respect each child as an individual and not assume the all or nothing rouse. Eventually, when she was old enough to explain herself, we stopped having any expectations of any character involvement. It was clear that bringing her in the vicinity of any masked person made her anxious. Certainly not worth the picture.
I did some digging after my recent mall trip; I was after the history surrounding the Santa’s lap story. I didn’t go back; I just wanted to find the information surrounding the lap sitting, picture taking Christmas tradition. The information I found was intriguing but disappointing all the same. Aside from the lack of Jesus in the modern Christmas story, Santa Claus is purely for capital gain. It was displayed to draw out the suckers like you and me to spend money in their stores. A tradition started in the 19th century.
As for the family behind me in the mall, I watched them get in line for a Santa picture. Neither child looked excited nor sad, just accommodating- for whom I will never know. The little boy having a meltdown did not get close to the icon we build up to our kids. His siblings did not smile but did sit on Santa’s lap, and I wonder if the parents regret the $15 purchase for one picture.