We grew up taking pictures with Santa every single year. My mom prided herself on these pictures. Each year we had to have one done so that it could be framed in a matching frame and placed on the mantel next to the prior year's Santa picture. There's a span of at least twelve or so portraits (before we adamantly refused to be seen as teens, at the mall, on some old guy's lap). Some of these pictures are funny. There's one where a faux bough of holly was positioned behind my head, making for one hell of a silhoutte and there's a couple of awkward looking preteen pictures but none of them... and I mean none of them, hold a candle up to this gem.
Of course I carried the tradition on when I had children of my own, and we did the photos with Santa every year. This particular year my oldest was a little over four, my middle child was fourteen months and I was six months pregnant with our youngest. We were at the mall with my husband and we had been in line for a long time. Too long. I knew well enough, and my husband knew well enough, that shit was about to hit the fan. We were probably in line for over an hour and although it went very well at first, the situation went downhill quickly. My fidgety fourteen month old was no longer soothable. We discussed, and I say discussed, but it was probably more like barely audible but clearly irratable chatter exchanged among tired and stressed out parents. Ultimately though, when neither one of us was willing to take the chance of leaving and coming back another day, only to have just as long of a wait again, we decided to stick it out and wait our turn.
What seemed like ages went by before my boys got to sit with Santa. At this point my eldest was exhausted and my youngest was code red. Santa though had heard us in line and was privy to what was about to go down. I approached him apprehensively and he suredly waved me in, "He's in a mood..." I stammered, fully aware of what was about to go down. Santa smiled though and winked and motioned for me to hand my son over then get out of the way (so he could work his magic and by golly he did). My son screamed, which was not a surprise to anyone there, and Santa did his thing. 
We were exhausted. We were ready to go home. Tradition though, said we needed this picture and Santa wound up delivering in the most unexpected way. I have to say hands down, this is my favorite Christmas photo ever. 
 
Totally worth the wait.