It’s December 13th and I’m celebrating a small victory tonight. I’m proud to say that our little elf FINALLY caved on his protest and agreed to sit within five feet of Santa for twelve seconds albeit with a huge frown on his face. He doesn’t like Santa. He doesn’t trust Santa. He’s frankly scared to death of Santa. Jenn and I have tried several times now to get our young scrooge to sit on Santa’s lap but to no avail. He’s protested to the point where it sounds as if we were sending sheep to the slaughter. This is a good lesson for me. Life is about perspective and this is no different. To you or I, Santa is the jolly tubby man who magically comes down our chimney on Christmas Eve to put presents under our tree. The mere mention of Santa conjures up many wonderful memories. To Ryan, however, Santa is this crazy fat man in a red costume with a beard designed to disguise his face. Keeping it all in perspective, Ryan should learn to not judge a book by its cover. I should probably learn to cut this kid some slack because, taken out of context, Santa CAN be pretty scary.