santa + baby

After a less than stellar home-cooked meal by yours truly Tuesday night (sorry, babe!), we decided to go out for a nice family dinner last night. While we were out and about, hustling and bustling along, we took Emery to see Santa. We weren’t sure what she would think about her first encounter with the jolly old fellow. We plopped her down and, let me tell you, she gave that man a serious up and down.
And you are?
No initial crying, which was wonderful. Is skepticism possible at 8 months? She seemed to settle in quickly with ol’ Santa. I’m sure it will be no time before she’s rattling off a list of items to the man in the red suit for ponies, iPads, castles and who knows what. 
Hi, guys!

 She was happy as a clam (though I never really understood that saying). Probably confident that she had expressly followed the guidelines of being good all year long (or 8 months) and had no worries about whether she would make the “Nice List.” Sounds like anyone you know?

Giving my good girl a kiss!

So glad she wasn’t traumatized for life or anything too dramatic. I think I was expecting the worst. It may have had something to do with the fact that one of the few Santas around is at our local Bass Pro Shop, which also meant “North Pole” additions like a giant taxidermized moose. (that vocab addition thanks to this video, if you haven’t seen it.) She may be an outdoors lover like her dad after all, although hopefully, she will have better taste in prints than camouflage. 

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