After braving icy county roads this morning to have Nora's six month pictures* and a few family photos taken, we headed back into town, grabbed our own camera, and made our way down to the courthouse so that Nora could meet Santa.
We didn't realize that the camera's batteries were dead until we were practically at the front of the line. Photos were available for purchase, just $3, but neither one of us had any cash. As we stood there trying to figure out what to do, the lady in front of us, in line with her granddaughter, turned around and handed me $3 cash. I tried to give it back to her, but she refused "It's the holiday season" she said.
Three dollars isn't a great hardship to us. We could have gotten out of line, and driven home or to an ATM. But three dollars meant that we didn't have to re-bundle our six month old, shuffle our way over rather icy sidewalks back to the car, locate the money, shuffle back to the courthouse and go to the end of the line and un-bundle said six month old. It meant that Nora had her picture taken with Jolly Old Saint Nick while she was awake, full, spit-up free, changed, and in a good mood. It meant that we didn't snark at each other while deciding if one of us should stay while the other one ran back to get the money, or if we should both go home, and then inevitably try to decide if it was worth going back. It meant that Nora will have evidence that she didn't scream in terror the first time she met Santa, delivered right to our house in a few days.
Santa Claus really was in the courthouse today, but he wasn't necessarily the guy with the red suit and beard.
*Electronic proofs should be available Monday
We didn't realize that the camera's batteries were dead until we were practically at the front of the line. Photos were available for purchase, just $3, but neither one of us had any cash. As we stood there trying to figure out what to do, the lady in front of us, in line with her granddaughter, turned around and handed me $3 cash. I tried to give it back to her, but she refused "It's the holiday season" she said.
Three dollars isn't a great hardship to us. We could have gotten out of line, and driven home or to an ATM. But three dollars meant that we didn't have to re-bundle our six month old, shuffle our way over rather icy sidewalks back to the car, locate the money, shuffle back to the courthouse and go to the end of the line and un-bundle said six month old. It meant that Nora had her picture taken with Jolly Old Saint Nick while she was awake, full, spit-up free, changed, and in a good mood. It meant that we didn't snark at each other while deciding if one of us should stay while the other one ran back to get the money, or if we should both go home, and then inevitably try to decide if it was worth going back. It meant that Nora will have evidence that she didn't scream in terror the first time she met Santa, delivered right to our house in a few days.
Santa Claus really was in the courthouse today, but he wasn't necessarily the guy with the red suit and beard.
*Electronic proofs should be available Monday
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