When looking back on past Christmas memories, everyone recalls one thing in particular: sitting on Santa Claus’s lap.

Remember the day when you thought of exactly what you wanted to ask for Christmas as you stood in line waiting to sit on Ol’ Saint Nick’s lap.  Once you got to the front of the line you found yourself blanking on what you wanted to ask for and became terrified when you were placed on a giant man’s lap.

With all of my dignity, I went out in public and stood in line to sit on Santa’s lap once again.  I expected it to be the same as it was when I was young, an exciting yet frightening encounter with a giant man with a fake beard and red suit.

Like when I was younger, the man pulled off the Santa look quite well, which is quite  hard to do these days. He was a simple Santa and looked just as I remembered him as a child, with the usual white beard and rosy, plump cheeks. And hats off to Santa for having a real, white beard.  It wasn’t very long, but hey, he tried, right?

Soon enough I was in the front if the line and it was my turn to sit on Santa’s lap. I knew he was going to give me the same look everyone else in line gave me, and  I was unsure if he would even let me to sit on his lap.

Not only did Santa look confused at first, but while I stood in line I got many unsettling looks. There were a mixture of confused children looking up at me and glaring mothers.

For some strange reason, he didn’t.  I sat next to Santa, and as I did, I couldn’t help but remember what Buddy the elf said in the movie “Elf.” Buddy told the fake Santa he smelled like beef and cheese.

I attempted to smell Santa inconspicuously, but I couldn’t get anything, so I continue to wonder if Santa really smells like beef and cheese.

Surprisingly I didn’t get the usual feeling I did when I was younger. Maybe it was the strange looks I got from the parents or small children when I was standing line.  Perhaps it was the fact that I was taller than Santa himself.

Now I knew he would think I was too old for this, but he didn’t even ask what I wanted for Christmas, a crucial mistake on his part.

One mother in particular gave me almost a death stare that I was afraid she was going to hurt me.  Santa’s little helpers didn’t seem too amused either.

All they seemed to care about was charging people for overpriced pictures with Santa instead of what this tradition actually is for. Santa was all too eager for this pricey picture too. When I first walked up to him he asked if it was just me and how he expected a huge crowd. I said no to that statement and couldn’t help wondering why he would even think that.

When you go up to Santa, you go alone. Not with your friends, not with your siblings, but alone. It was extremely important he knew exactly what you wanted for Christmas.

I’m not going to lie, sitting on Santa’s lap wasn’t anything like I remembered it to be. What has happened in the world today? Was the purpose for sitting on Santa’s lap was to just take and buy an awkward, overly priced picture with a man in a red suit instead of making sure he knows exactly what you want for Christmas.

It is safe to say that that was my last time sitting on Santa’s lap.