One of the required pre-Christmas festivities in the Webb family is taking the kids to see Santa.
(Though I must confess (...there will be a lot of confessing in this post), it is not as cute as it was in the days of Brooklyn's "pre-Santa stress disorder".) But still, it's pretty cute.
This year, Brooklyn confidently walked right over, climbed up (uninvited) onto his knee, and plopped herself there for a good, long time.
She told him she wanted a "puppy that is real, but not really real."
(This picture completely negates my whole schpeel about Brooklyn's new-found Santa confidence. Does anyone else feel really, really sorry for her right now? And does anyone else want to slap Santa? Fine. I don't want to slap him, but I do not appreciate the "someone get this girl off my knee - NOW" face. That's all I'm sayin'. )
Aubrey (never one who's needed much convincing to sit on anyone's lap...) was much more concerned about the situation than Brooklyn was. I was mystified. That doesn't happen often.
But in almost no time she was talking poor little Kris Kringle's ear off, explaining in vivid detail the puppy she would like under the tree come December 25th. (A real, real white and brown Cavachon girl puppy named Coco. In case you were wondering.)
The way that she is casually resting her hand on Santa's tummy slays me. It's so awesomely Aubrey. (Someday I will successfully teach her about personal boundaries.) Although, I really don't think he minded. By the end of the visit he was wound around her pinkie finger. (I'm actually concerned there may be a dog under our tree on Christmas eve. A real, real one.)
I have a feeling this Christmas is going to be a magical one.
P.S. No, I did not forget about all you dear, sweet friends. I decided Christmas cards were on the "not-necessary this year" list, and I promise next year's cards will be 2 years worth of cute.
This year, Brooklyn confidently walked right over, climbed up (uninvited) onto his knee, and plopped herself there for a good, long time.
She told him she wanted a "puppy that is real, but not really real."
(This picture completely negates my whole schpeel about Brooklyn's new-found Santa confidence. Does anyone else feel really, really sorry for her right now? And does anyone else want to slap Santa? Fine. I don't want to slap him, but I do not appreciate the "someone get this girl off my knee - NOW" face. That's all I'm sayin'. )Aubrey (never one who's needed much convincing to sit on anyone's lap...) was much more concerned about the situation than Brooklyn was. I was mystified. That doesn't happen often.
But in almost no time she was talking poor little Kris Kringle's ear off, explaining in vivid detail the puppy she would like under the tree come December 25th. (A real, real white and brown Cavachon girl puppy named Coco. In case you were wondering.)
The way that she is casually resting her hand on Santa's tummy slays me. It's so awesomely Aubrey. (Someday I will successfully teach her about personal boundaries.) Although, I really don't think he minded. By the end of the visit he was wound around her pinkie finger. (I'm actually concerned there may be a dog under our tree on Christmas eve. A real, real one.)
I have a feeling this Christmas is going to be a magical one. P.S. No, I did not forget about all you dear, sweet friends. I decided Christmas cards were on the "not-necessary this year" list, and I promise next year's cards will be 2 years worth of cute.
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