DAre you taking the kids to see Santa this year? If so, how much did you pay? At one cave in Winchester it was £18.50 per child and £6 per adult, so even if people asked for a refund, taking exception to his “blatantly fake beard” and “cheap red suit” No wonder. “I've seen better Santas rolling around town on my way to Christmas parties,” complained one visitor. At this price, you'd expect “Ho, Ho, Ho!” At least those were apparently not scheduled to be announced anytime soon either. (As a side note, Hampshire hasn't done much to strengthen its festival representation this year; one of its pastors also reportedly told schoolchildren that Santa wasn't real.)
Yes, that season has arrived again this year. It's the season for wonderful Christmas fleeces. We all feel it, but especially parents. What on earth are Winchester parents paying £6 for? To stand there for five minutes and take a picture? At least London Zoo doesn't charge adults for Santa's grotto. But the price of £17.50 per child effectively requires a new mortgage and does not include zoo admission fees. It's for a basic, no-frills meet-and-greet. If you choose 'Meet Santa Deluxe' it is 'only' an additional £22.50 per child. You wonder what on earth makes him so extravagant – maybe the cashmere beard?
I know I probably sound like the Grinch, but I hate that money-making cynicism and what it says about us as a nation (want some childhood magic? Well, that's it costs you money). Most infuriating of all is the appalling number of children in poverty who don't even get enough to eat, let alone see Santa. Is it really that hard for one of the many decent guys with a DBS cheque, to dress up in costume and go see some kids for free? Does that mean I'm such a fanatical socialist? ?
I don't think Santa Claus cost anything in the 90's. To be honest, he may have been out of sorts and smelled faintly of Lambert & Butler, but at least you didn't necessarily have to pony up to see him. In Wales, there were people who drove around local villages on floats waving. Apparently, when I was a toddler, my father once again honored me with an unpaid nursery school in London.
So this year I won't be taking my son to see Santa. The caves we went to last year sold out faster than Oasis tickets and were about the same price. He was very jovial and festive, with a kind of retro spirit (he encouraged rubbing rum into the gums of sobbing children), but our son was very happy with teething and strange dangers. I don't think it was because I encountered it, but my eyes screamed. Because we had to wait for a very long time, first in the hallway and then in what looked like a fairy-light pen. The result of this whole experience was a totally classic photo, but I have no desire to put him through that experience again.
Honestly, I laugh at articles about donkeys with horns and elves smoking vapor just as much as anyone else. There's something inherently comedic and, dare I say, quintessentially British about the yawning gulf between expectation and reality. And it's a year-round event. I don't think anyone has yet fully recovered from their hilarious experience at Glasgow Willy Wonka in February. But when you stop laughing and check your bank balance, you start to realize what kind of country this country has become.
Many parents are just tired of constantly running away. You don't have to pay £7 to take your child to soft play, and you don't have to pay regularly for baby classes that end up being missed because of endless viral infections. Fireworks should not cost £18.50 and should also be subsidized to local private schools. Still, if you can afford it, you find yourself paying for it. Because, as social media constantly reminds us, you should be #MakingMemories.
But once upon a time, memories weren't that expensive, in fact, they weren't expensive at all. I know it's part of growing up to remember fondly the Christmases of our childhood, but we can't help but feel like we've lost something. From the warm glow of colorful tree lights, which in most cases give way to the harshness of white LEDs, to the collective experience of live television. In the words of indie band Futureheads, and not entirely ironically, Christmas in the '80s was better. Maybe it's time to try to take it back.
