Safety First

I took the kids to the mall last week to take care of some last-minute Christmas shopping and general overspending and, while there, we bumped into Santa.

Well, sort of.

You see, we actually watched him work the merry masses in his pimped-out pied-a-terre--his street name is Master SC, it seems, from the looks of the embellished fireplace mantel--from the safety of the mall's second-floor perch, as this was how close Finnegan would allow us to get to the man in red.

From his safety-glass-enclosed nest above, Tiny Timidity watched with great fascination that which he would not grant direct eye contact on the first floor.


See, honey, that little girl just climbed up on his lap and she seems OK.
She clearly lacks the gene to distinguish when she's in mortal danger.

Santa's really a nice guy.
How can you trust someone who dresses like that in Southern California?

And that little girl just got a lollipop after her visit.
I'm pretty sure he's going to eat all those children whole and he's just sweetening the mix.