Gary hopped from one foot to the other. He was excited and couldn’t stand still, and the line was moving slowly. He twirled around and spotted another child leaving Santa’s lap and another get on. His little brother strained to escape from the pram and his mum looked annoyed.
“Sit still, Zachary,” Gary snapped at his brother, “We’ll be there soon.” Instead of calming his brother, it had the opposite effect. They took another step forward.
Zachary was getting more agitated and Gary was getting more excited. “Come on Zachary, this will be fun,” enthused Gary. Zachary replied with a loud protest squeal.
“It’s OK, Zachary,” Gary tried helping his mum by ineffectively calming his brother down. “This isn’t the REAL Santa.” At five years old, Gary knew these things. “The real Santa gets helpers to go to all the shopping centres around town so he can get plenty of rest to deliver presents to all the kids on Christmas Eve.”
While Gary was giving his explanation, Zachary had somehow wriggled his arms free of the pram and was trying to get his legs out. Mum was chatting to one of the other mum’s in line, something about how long it took and how the kids loved visiting Santa but the wait was killing them.
“And if you’re good, you’ll get a lolly,” Gary continued the explanation to his brother. Zachary was only two and couldn’t remember visiting Santa the previous year. They moved another step forward, and another step closer to the prize. Gary continued his hopping. Willing the line to move faster.
“Where’s Zachary?” Mum’s cry burst through his thoughts. He had got out of the pram and excaped. “Stay here Gary.” Came a terse instruction and she began madly searching for her mini-Houdini. The line moved forward and Gary dutifully pushed the now empty pram forward a step. Surely she didn’t mean he couldn’t move with the line.
After a few steps, Gary heard a familiar cry coming from his brother long before he saw his mum marching back to the line with her brother under one arm, desperately trying to escape. She re-joined the line and tried to get her younger son under control. They moved another step forward and were now at the front of the line. Gary could barely contain his excitement. “Look Zachary,” he excitedly exclaimed, “It’s Santa!!” He was met with another squeal from his brother, in anger, not excitement.
“And Lego, and Thomas, and books, and…” Gary struggled to be heard over the cries of his little brother.
“Look over here and smile,” the lady dressed as an elf called cheerily. Garry looked up and grinned. Just as the camera flashed, Zachary pulled Santa’s beard of and laughed, making a memorable photo.
