Well, since the bugs that have filled my posts all summer have made themselves scarce, my content has followed suit. In my search to find new sources of inspiration, I stumbled upon @mariannwest's 5 minute freewrite and weekend freewrite contests, so I figured I'd give it a shot.

Be warned: I am no writer, and this is my first entry into one of these contests. As it turns out, it is pretty tough to develop a thought in a mere 5 minutes. But, here is what I came up with.

Pictures With Santa

There I was, just standing there, when what I wanted to do was forbidden. I mean, I know that adults don’t usually sit on the mall Santa’s lap, but I never imagined that there would be an actual rule against it.

You’re probably wondering why I found myself waiting in that long line in the first place. It’s actually a pretty long story, but I’ll try to shorten it a bit for you. You see, my mom made me sit on Santa’s lap every single year of my childhood. She had an entire photo album of me with 17 pages of pictures. When I was 16, that was when I decided it would be the last time for me to sit on that fat man’s lap. At that point, I was pretty confident that Santa wasn’t real, anyway. Thing is, I had no idea what those pictures meant to my mom. As a matter of fact, it wasn’t until recently that I learned how important it was to her. She explained it to me as I sat next to her hospital bed just hours after the doctor gave her the prognosis.

So there I was, In the front of the Santa line with about 10 changes of clothes. I was going to get pictures taken to make up for all of those years that I had missed. But, Santa has his rules.

She may be young, but she is not stupid. I knew it wasn’t going to fool her, but I figured it would be the thought that counted. I tried to explain to to ‘Ms. Claus’, but she was having none of it! She just tried to push me out of line. I mean, physically push me out of the line! I stepped aside, but continued my pleading as several other kids took their turn on Santa’s lap. I told her the whole story, but Ms. Claus is a stone cold bi… ummm. Well, let’s just say that her heart is as cold as the North Pole. She absolutely refused to give me a chance.

I thought it may be the fact that I had all of those changes of clothes, so I offered to get one shot at a time and then wait my turn again. She explained to me that it had nothing to do with the changes of clothes, although anyone wanting multiple poses would have to stand in line multiple times. It was just that they had an age limit.

So, that was the day I loaned Morgan 400 bucks.That was Ms. Claus’ real name. I knew I wasn’t going to get anywhere playing on her sympathy, so I bribed her. She drove a hard bargain, too! I started things off at $50, and to this day, I still don’t know how I ended up giving away $400! She swore up and down that she would pay it back; that she just needed it to cover her rent this month. I knew I’d never see that money, again. But, I didn’t care. I just wanted my pictures. She still wouldn’t let me get back in line then and there. Instead, she promised me that if I would come back after closing time, I would be allowed all of the pictures that I wanted. Oh, I had to pay for them, too, by the way. It was one expensive night, but look on my mom’s face when I showed up with that photo album and turned past page 17 was priceless.

She’s been gone for a full year, now. Every Christmas I tell this story to anyone who will listen. It remains my favorite memory.