Santa: Year Two

I don't know how the plunging oil prices have affected Santa - I presume he's stopped his exploratory drilling under the North Pole ice cap - but he did decide to come to the Chevron Christmas Party.  We hopped on the cable car to head up Grouse Mountain for an all-you-can-eat hot buffet breakfast and to see him!  But mainly for an all-you-can-eat hot buffet breakfast.

Pete was excited.  He's now somewhat familiar with Santa, having seen him everywhere around Vancouver (how does Santa do that?) although I don't think he really understands who Santa is, or where baby Jesus fits into it all.  Anyway, after last year's quick and unsuccessful attempt to get an 'on Santa's knee' pic I've been talking lots to Pete about the man in red, in a homespun self-help mix of cognitive behavioral and exposure therapy.  Cogbahsposure therapy, if you will.

Initial results on my one-yr-old test subject were good, as he displayed much excitement when Santa entered the buffet room, pausing from eating his fourth pancake with maple syrup.  However, as Santa approached, enthusiasm waned, and when the big man reached our table and asked for a high-five Pete clung to his mum like a baby koala.  If Pete was aware what his mother's really like he'd have leapt at Santa, but he's only known her for a couple of years.

Being much bigger now, we couldn't balance him on Santa's lap and hope to get a nice shot in the nanoseconds before crying/escape began, so no physical contact was made.  I tried to rescue the situation, constantly telling Pete that he'd been naughty and so Santa wouldn't bring him any presents, and that the elves would probably kidnap him and take him to the North Pole and feed him to the reindeer, but even this didn't help.  Oh well - twelve months of intense psychological work and I'll hope for better results next time.

Transport to the top.



A lot less wintry than last year.

Pete takes to the ice!  A skating prodigy?  Maybe I'll force that on him next year.



Santa's transport.

Pete's transport (he wishes).

The ski season isn't exactly in full swing.

It doesn't look like it.

Plate #5.

I saw Mummy kissing Santa Claus...but decided against direct physical contact myself.

Corporate Christmas card.

Gospel carols before we head back down.



But the view made it all worth it.

Home, and time to "help" with making the Christmas cake.



And what tree is complete without a Chevron-branded bauble?  Not ours, that's for sure.