Santa.

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Well, Owen hated Santa.  We made the long trek to the Louisiana mall to get his picture taken with the Claus.  He had on his smart sweater vest, man, he was ready.  Then I handed him to Santa.  I can’t be sure whether it was the sleigh, the beard, or the fact that Santa said nothing.  Not even a “Ho, Ho, Ho”.  I would say Santa was a meth head, but then I don’t think he would have those holly, jolly Santa cheeks.  Moonshine?  That should have made him more boisterous.  Maybe I should give him the benefit of the doubt, as he was the same Santa as last year, that maybe this yearly gig is soul sucking.  Or that he was really the Grinch (notice his green gloves?)  Merry Christmas, y’all!

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