Santa's Gotta Eat

I met my family at a Fort Worth area Fuddruckers on Saturday night. Who doesn't love a good burger? And their seasoned fries? Yum. We were ready for an evening of food, fun, and family.

As we were walking in, my uncle noticed a bumper sticker on a nearby car. It read, "My other car is a sleigh." Hmmm. That's weird, we all thought. Let's go get some grub!

Well, we made it inside, ordered our food, and commenced to finding a table. When, lo and behold, what is happening in one of the party rooms? Why, a Santa convention, of course! Right before our eyes--many Santas (too many to count), in their street clothes, enjoying a nice Fuddruckers burger. They were with their wives, discussing (I assume) what worked--and what didn't work--during this last Christmas season.

Now, don't get me wrong. I was completely jazzed by this turn of events...at first. I was tickled to know that the Santas get together occasionally for fellowship. I wanted SO badly to take a good picture for my blog. Then I remembered sweet Rose.

Sweet Rose with the Santa-phobia. Darling Rose with the Masklophobia. Her face flushed. Her body started shaking. As soon as she saw that room full of Santas, she completely lost her appetite (and her mind), and froze to her seat. She cowered behind Nana--especially when Santa Bruce came to refill his Coke. This is the child who is stunned that I take an exercise class in the same room in which she shook like a leaf and had a heart attack visited Santa. The same child who, when we so much as pass a Chick-fil-a on the street, repeats ad nauseam "The cow not there. The cow not there. The cow not there."



I don't know how to break this news to Anna, of course. When we finally get to Disney World--one of these years--I'm not sure her sister will share in her excitement. I've never been there--but it's common knowledge that you'll meet a costumed "friend" at every turn. Yikes.

(This is the only picture I got of the Santas. I was nervous to get too close...)