Our local toy store has visits with Santa by appointment, so we made sure to reserve our spot several weeks ago. We were the first to arrive in our group time slot, so we played trains until our names were called, and E brought the train car along with him. Santa’s reindeer were making lots of noise on the roof, sleigh bells were ringing upstairs, and then the Big Elf himself made his grand descent into the toy store.
Now let me preface this by saying that my 2.5-year-old had been talking a big game all week about how he was going to sit on Santa’s lap and tell him that he’s 2, and has a baby brother named Sage, and that he wants a green ball for Christmas. After our Polar Express date last week, he finally understands Santa.
As Santa made his entrance, E boldly called out from the crowd, “I have a train!” And then E’s name was called and he FROZE. Having rehearsed his lines SO many times, and completely star-struck, all he could muster from a safe distance away was “greenball.”
He finally worked up enough courage to show Santa the train car, which Santa dutifully examined.
Sage was content to be added to the mix.
And we finally persuaded E to stand beside Santa on the “just-in-case stool for hesitant children,” as I’m calling it.
Regardless of his shyness, E exclaimed about Santa for the rest of the night, completely content with his visit and boldly claiming how he got to sit on Santa’s lap with Sage.