Dear Sir,
I am writing this letter regarding your comment to the photographer as my children and I approached your lap in anticipation of a hearty “Ho Ho Ho!” And “Merry Christmas!” As you are well aware, the line to talk to you this morning was not terribly long, but to a 1 and 4 year old, thirty five minutes can seem like an eternity. Especially when they can see all the other boys and girls sitting on your lap, followed by reaching into your big, red, velvet bag and pulling out their very own crayons and coloring books. It’s as if they have not already taken over an entire kitchen cabinet with these types of art supplies at home. They cannot wait to have MORE!
But kuddos to my kids for waiting patiently, talking about what they wanted to do when it was their turn to visit you. While my daughter was sure she only wanted to talk to you about her wish list, my son kept calling, “Danta! Danta!” and I looked forward to his first time sitting on St. Nick’s knee while staring up at your big, white, billowy beard.
As the young lad before us finished his turn and we walked up to take our place, the girl taking the pictures stepped right in front of us and whispered something to you. Your response to her was unbelievable. In a gruff, irritated tone you replied, “That’s not in my contract”.
Then you looked at my kids as if you wished they would just go away.
Now I do not know what she said to you, nor do I know what your precious little contract says. What I do know is that I had 2 young children who had waited all season for their chance to see Santa Claus. I know that they were promised 2 days ago that we would be going to see you, but everybody in our house fell victim to the flu. I know that when I am paying ten freaking dollars for two 5×7’s, I expect a JOLLY ole St. Nick who might even ATTEMPT to make my children smile.
When next year rolls around, I hope that you will reconsider applying for the Santa Claus position unless you can keep in mind that while you are wearing the red suit and sitting on the Santa throne, surrounded by anxious youngsters, to them you ARE THE REAL Santa Claus. Why don’t you act like it?!?!?!?
I hope you find the “Merry” in your Christmas, Mr. Pissed Off Santa.
Sincerely yours…
4 Comments
I think I would’ve looked into getting my lousy ten bucks back… or at least asked him what was wrong? and was it worth crushing a couple of toddlers?? What a jerk.
you need to write your letter in real time and send it to the mall office. i am sure santa is a contract employee of some north pole photo expense operation, but no matter who signs his paycheck, you walked into that mall and choose that santa. you go,girl. all the way to the top! and as we go see the santa at phipps tomorrow at 3 , one hour before he officially heads to the north pole, the only thing mary catherine wants is a barbie cake. cake, not the keyboard, head or doll…cake! thank my north star michaels opens at 10 and i don’t have to read the scripture until 11~~~~!!!! merry christmas to all , and to all of my family here and at your house, good night.
I agree with Granny Miz B. A copy of this (very good) letter needs to go to the mall office. I’m sure they expect the children who stand in line to get the “real thing” experience, too, and that’s what they’re paying for.
That’s terrible! Yes, send this leter to the mall. I learned a great thing this year.
Nordstrom’s at Mall of Georgia had a Santa-no lines and a FREE polaroid picture
of my sweeties and I could use my camera too. Sweet! We walked right past all
those people in line and went on our merry way.