Poor baby. Mom and I took Emery to visit Santa and after picking out her own outfit, the promise of seeing Santa’s helpers up close and personal and much coaxing once it was actually her turn, we officially struck out. I think this year’s visit was even worse than last year’s with the same stream of tears, sad face and even a cry of “Get me out of here!” Even Santa said it was the first time he heard that one. At least the trauma was all forgotten as soon as we walked away. Emery looked at the take-home picture, folded it and put it back in my bag. We went immediately to Zoe’s Kitchen for chocolate cake to make up for it.