After we got our pictures done, we had forty-five minutes to walk around the mall while they looked over our photos, edited them, and made us a proof set. I needed a new coat, so we did that first. It was on the way back I saw him - Santa Claus! He wasn't even officially open; his arrival was supposed to be today, but he just happened to be there so the elves could do their training with the camera and the cash register and everything. He was just sitting down when I spotted him, so Mason was the first baby Santa saw this year! He saw us and waved to Mason in the baby carrier, who was too busy playing with his vibrating teether to notice. I noticed though. I waved back, got all excited, and we walked over.
I couldn't guess how Mason was going to react. Kids usually freak out over Santa, especially at his age. That's just what happens. I held him, kneeled down in front of the big man in the red suit, and let Mason peer up at him. Santa smiled. I braced myself for the big frown face that inevitably turns into crying. But Mason never showed any sign of being upset; he just continued to stare and, a couple of seconds later, allowed a tiny smile. I took that as a good sign and quickly plopped Mason down on Santa's knee. Mason was unphased. He touched Santa's beard, laughed a baby ho-ho-ho! at him, and looked up just in time to give a big cheesy grin as an elf snapped a picture.
Now I just have to figure out why Mason's scared of my dad. It obviously isn't the beard.
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