The last two years Jamie has been too scared of Father Christmas to sit with him at Christmas.
The first year he wasn't having a bar of the fat man. I had to sit between them, for the sake of a photo.
Last year, he was still sceptical, although quite taken with the white fluffy beard (which apparently looked like our maltese Jak, as much as I could make out from the "Tak!" "Tak!" as he stroked the fluff). He still wouldn't sit on his lap, or talk to him, or really make eye contact. Although, I think Santa did have a slight win right towards the end of Round II, when he handed out the chocolate.
This year... well... this year!
Jamie caught sight of Santa at the shopping centre yesterday. And walked right on up to him. No hesitation this year. Oh no. None whatsoever.
He had his Thomas the Tank Engine catalogue in hand and he sat up there on Santa's lap, opened up his catalogue and had a good ol' chat about what he would like for Christmas.