Ho, Ho, Help!

            Ah, Christmas time!  Decorations on houses, presents under the tree, egg nog, family parties, Christmas carols, fruit cakes and pedophiles.  Wait, what? 

            Yup!  Pedophiles!  What do they have to do with Christmas, you say?  Plenty.  And it’s all thanks to you!  There are not a whole lot of annual opportunities for the sick and twisted to venture out in to the world and take a crack at your little darlings; except Christmas time.  That’s right!  That cute little holiday card you can’t wait to have printed up of Johnny Jr. sitting on mall Santa’s lap?  Well, there’s a reason why Johnny is crying. 

            I’ve never understood how parents could be so protective of their children for the other 364 days of the year but give them an opportunity to have their baby sit on the lap of a total stranger dressed as a mythical character and they’re all for it.  No introductions required.  Just, here you go…

“Sit on the nice man’s lap.  Smile.  I said smile.  No, not cry, smile!  God damn it, Johnny we stood on line for an hour to take this picture!  You are going to smile for mall Santa!!!”

            But Johnny can’t smile because mall Santa smells like bourbon.  And cigarettes.  And for some reason has placed his hand on Johnny’s inner thigh.  Right about now the only thing Johnny wants for Christmas is for a social worker to intervene. 

            I realize the same opportunity presents itself around Easter time but the conditions are a little different.  Think about it.  Anyone can play the mall Easter Bunny.  The person’s head is covered and they’re not allowed to talk.  In fact, I’m convinced that job is specifically reserved for the handicapped.  But not mall Santa.  That job is solely for middle aged to elderly men… that don’t mind wearing a disguise… and having little kids sit on their laps.  Creepy.