Claustrophobic

Dad and I both took a day off for his birthday so we could take Ryan to the mall to see Santa Claus and apologize for last year's rather unfortunate display of nonaffection.

Unfortunately, we got there at 10, and Santa doesn't leave his workshop until 11, so we wandered about randomly, Ainsley keeping him more interested in the Cowboy Hat store than the Arcade (boo!). She did have some things to pick up at Target, so Ryan got to play in the elevator and escalator. I showed him a "Merry Christmas" banner and asked him if he saw the "M" for "Merry." He instead cocked his head to one side, then beyond ninety degrees.

"Dubbayew!" he said.

We headed back for the Santa area to find the entire Fairfax County Elementary School population sitting on the floor in matching grey shirts. Fortunately, they just sat around en masse to hear Santa read a Christmas story, rather than each going up individually asking for "Call of Duty 4" or whatever.

Ryan seemed intrigued, happy to see the bearded gent, yelling "Hello San-TA!" a couple times with a straight-arm wave during story hour. Finally our turn, I set him down and he slowly walked up to him...though a handshake would have been more dignified, Santa asked if he could do a high-five, which my son obliged. Santa asked how old he was. Mommy hinted that Ryan should tell him he was two, so he obliged. Santa gently picked him up and draped him on his right knee, okay, not bad, a little frozen in fear, body language saying 'okay, I'll sit here, but quit touching me', but no tears, just curious as to what the heck. We tried to get him to sing Jingle Bells, look at the Twinkling Snoopy, anything to get a smile, but we ended up with your basic mug shot.

In a cute blue sweater.

Santa Natsa Bad

In the evening we took Dad to Applebee's for a birthday steak and so Ryan could flirt with Brittani the waitress, before heading home for yummy drippy gooey fat-free Rum Cake and presents (which were not gooey, unless you're talking about the sentiment behind them).

Ryan hadn't napped well, so we had cake and water (party!) without him, after bringing a present and card up to his room so we could sing Happy Birthday Grandad and blow out a decorative candle while Grandad read him a nigh-night book.

P.S. Ryan officially says "Grandad" more than "Dad-Dad" now.

He also says "Butt."