I came across these pictures the other day and thought since it’s Christmas time and all, I would share them with y’all.
The first is a picture of me with Santa when I was about 2 1/2 years old. Legend has it that my mom had run into Sears to pick up an order, turned around and I was gone. She searched frantically until she looked up and noticed me sitting on Santa’s lap.
I love this story even more now because it tells me how much Caroline is like her mama. I wasn’t a cup pourer either. I was ready to meet some folk.
The second picture is my favorite because it’s obvious that this wasn’t a planned trip to see Santa. Please note my sister’s footy pajamas and the rollers in my hair. In all fairness, I did spend over 3/4 of my childhood with pink foam rollers in my hair, but they were usually removed in time for any social occasion.
I’m also particularly fond of my all denim ensemble and the tough guy vibe I’m putting out. I’m five, I’m in kindergarten, I can count to ten in Spanish…don’t mess with me.
And is it just me or does that Santa look a little shifty? It’s like he sees an officer of the law out of the corner of his eye and is starting to get a little nervous.
Another thing about these vintage 70’s Santas (other than their sweet, sweet white thrones with red pom pom fringe) is that they have obviously fake beards. The one at the top looks like he took his girlfriend’s wig from her Diana Ross Halloween costume, dyed it white and stuck in on his face.
As for the one at the bottom, the more I look at him, the more I’m convinced he might have been a member of the witness protection program.