torture

We went to a little Christmas party last night. The real reason we went, well, I brought the guest of honor, aka, Santa. Stephen was even more upset about him being there then he was in the last post. He could be found cowering in the corner as far away from Santa as he could be. It both broke my heart that it bothered him that much, and made me laugh. So, at the end of the evening, as is tradition, someone (this time, my mother-in-law) asked me to go sit in Santa's lap so she could get a picture. This is what we ended up with:

Poor poor thing. I wish we could have gotten it all in one picture, but I think this gets the point across. He did not want me to be near that scary, scary man in red. This is, by far, the closest that Stephen got to Santa on his own free will. And it was to save me. I'm proud of my little boy to overcome his fears to save his momma.