Rite of Passage Santa Photos

Here are photos of my partner with her older sister, and me for the absolutely necessary "photo with Santa." As you can see, neither of us gave a hoot's hoot about Santa.

Since neither of us have any other such photos, we can only presume this fulfilled our parent's desires.

My fancy attire makes me think that my great-aunt Violet was behind the Santa connection. That Ft. Wayne Santa was a hometown favorite. He was on the job for many years. My partner's looks like a Detroit auto worker looking for a few extra bucks. My Santa sat on a throne, hers...not so much. Plus, her pic looks like a quickie, no coats even removed. She remembers trying to walk away, Santa grabbing her tightly by the arm.

Neither of us feared those Santa's, just found them boring.

In future years I would stand far away and peer at my peers on Santa's lap. I just didn't get it. Of course my ornery older brothers blew away the Santa myth when I was very young, so it all was such a huge adult conspiracy that my mind could not wrap around. "Don't lie." Yet, there the grown-ups were, lie after lie. Flying deer, fat men down thin chimneys, etc., etc., but the baby JESUS---not that was the truth? I spent a lot of Christmas time looking at grown-ups and wondering if they were not from UFOs. (Which ALL agreed existed!)

Santa Claus, your North Pole digs,

Your flying deer, your many wigs,

How dare you put me on your lap?

What I WANT is to be done with this crap.

Ho Ho Ho