Last week I took Wee Paige to the mall. We were on a quest to find a star for the top of our Christmas tree. As is natural at this time of year, jolly ole’ Saint Nick was there sitting on his throne with his gaggle of high school holiday help.
Paige wanted to have her picture taken with you-know-who. So, what with it being an annual tradition I ponyed up the dough. By that time Paige was already sitting on Santa’s lap and talking about what she’d like to find under the tree this 25th. They snapped a picture… it was ok. There was no one else in line, so I asked them to snap another…it was much better.
While the pictures are printing out, Paige and Santa are still chatting. I get the pictures in the little envelop and turn around to get Paige. Then the following exchange happens between “Santa”and myself:
Santa (to Paige): Is this your dad?
(Santa holds out his hand for me to shake it. I do)
Santa (to me): Excuse me, you wouldn’t happen to be a dentist would you?
Me: Um… no… no I’m not.
Santa (chuckling to himself): Well, you can’t blame a guy for asking, can ya?
I have no idea what that meant.
||Posted by Julius Marx