Hank & Cap have been very busy fellows lately, attending lovely events in sparkly, sparkly places, eating delicious food and catching up with friends and family. Such delight! It's Hank's favorite season to sneak into posh ladies lounges, collect fancy pens, and amass hilarious valet parking fees.

Yesterday, Hank & Cap decided to slip into more comfortable collars and take it down a notch, keep it real. Where did they head? Why, to Santa Chuck's of course!

Ho, ho, hiccup!  Not only did they finagle a photo with the Man himself but they also got to chat with a lovely older couple going by the names of Mr. & Mrs. Claus! Hank would not have believed it, really, but they had their elves in tow so it had to be so.

Oh, and the place. The place! A dog- and baby-palooza. Dogs. Babies. Paloozing! Standing/crawling/wiggling room only. The other dogs were chill—just waiting for Santa here, folks—but some of the tots had that just-on-the-verge-of-a-baby-stampede look about them. (Above, Hank watches for party infants and Cap eyes the fidgety inflatable.)

Waiting in line for Santa, Cap learned the hard way that when you share the watering hole with packs of wild rugrats, you've really got to be careful where you step. He'll be picking Cheesy Poofs out of his nails for weeks.

(Hank can't imagine a better Christmas present.)

But in the end, the boys got their photo! The Clauses pulled out all the stops and even the elves jumped in and jingled. Such stars!

And because they're classy that way, neither the Clauses nor the elves said anything about the Cheesy Poof detritus. Sweet.

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Look at everything always as though you were seeing it either for the first or last time: Thus is your time on earth filled with glory.

—Betty Smith