I began to look for a sign advertising "Santa's Village" and almost walked straight past the flashing blue neon lights inviting people into "Santa's Grotto."
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| The Grotto Clause |
It was at the entrance of said grotto that I engaged in a conversation with the ticket girl named Eileen who informed me of the price of admission for two to see Santa - 5 punts - or roughly $10 Canadian. "Come On Eileen! That's a bit pricey isn't it?" I asked.
She didn't budge. I looked down at the priceless ketchup-smudged faces of my twin girls (their expressions were priceless, the ketchup was .28 cents per packet at MacDonalds). I coughed up the cash.
Money used to be big in Ireland. It was so big I was able to make an airplane out of the five punts. Eileen did not seem very impressed.
The grotto was nice...for a grotto. It was a little stuffy due to the large number of people in there. Who knew a grotto could hold so many people? EILEEN! That's who.
Sixty-seven minutes later we finally saw the "Big Guy," who was amazingly waif-like for a Santa. He was so small, the girls asked me if he was an elf.
Finally, the moment arrived when they sat on Santa's knee to have their picture taken. I thought I heard a yelp. I'm not sure if it was Santa buckling under the weight of four-year-old twins, or the twins being impaled by Santa's bony knees.
Then - FLASH! It was over - or so I thought. As I was being handed the Polaroid, Santa's elf (or should I say bag man), demanded another five punts for the picture. That was when I realized I was having the buck kicked out of me. I was about to make a fist out of this bill when the voices of two angels stopped me.
My girls wanted to see their picture with the Grotto Claus. I handed the "elf" his money and realized Christmas in Ireland wasn't so different than Christmas in Canada or anywhere else for that matter.
Yes, the grotto was unique, the skinny Santa was unusual, and Eileen was stern yet efficient, but it all came at a price. And isn't that what Christmas is all about?
BOOOOO! What a horrible, cynical ending. The only thing I can do to make this right is offer you an even more cynical view of Christmas that should completely obliterate my miserable meanderings from your mind.
May I suggest listening to the absolutely brilliant but not so traditionally Christmassy Fairy Tale of New York by The Pogues with Kirsty MacColl.
Recommended Viewing: A Christmas Story
Recommended Reading: And A Kitchen Sink In A Spruce Tree
Merry Christmas!
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