Today, as I was walking through the grocery store, I turned the corner and there sat Santa. Decked in his fuzzy white and red suit and settled in a not-so-cozy looking chair next to a table where children were happily decorating gingerbread houses with oozing gooey substances and colorful flecks of sugar.

"There's Santa." I said, shuffling the groceries around in my arms.

"Yep, there's Santa. Why don't you go over and sit on his lap?" She said.

I thought it over. Yes, sitting on Santa's lap would be something I would do. I was after all, wearing a quite flattering pair of belled raindeer antlers. I've got nothing against the man. He's Santa, you've got to love Santa.

"Ho ho ho, you want to sit on my lap? Is that what you said?" Eyeing us walking by, Santa gave another laugh.

"No, I meant she can sit on your lap." She said, gesturing at me with a grin.

"Oh, it's Christmas!" He said, spreding his arms with a really quite naughty glint in his eye. "I think you can both sit on my lap."

Oh yes, Santa. Got to love the man.