With Christmas lights sparkling into the darkness all over town and Christmas trees and an army of other holiday decor going up in each and every house Ridge visits, the pending arrival of Santa Claus is consuming his mind. And when I say consume, I mean freakin' absorbing every molecule of his little 4-year-old brain. Let me tell you, Friends, this is leading to a little DRA-MA at the Little Household.
After watching The Polar Express for the second time last night, now a nightly ritual, he emerged from his television haze demanding that we have Christmas then, RIGHT THEN! Not tomorrow, not in 17 days when Christmas was actually marked on the calender, but at that exact moment.
I tried to rationalize with the boy, a feat proven virtually impossible. Man, he's hard-headed. I have NO idea just where he inherited that.
After a solid 30 minutes of what could best be described as a shit fit, Rowdy and I decided to call in the big guns -- SANTA! Of course, Santa just happened to be discussing the naughty or nice list from the my dad's phone. Ridge backed off the "Christmas better happen right effin' now" ledge, although he did mention that he hoped Santa would make a surprise visit during the night.
So, it is with great angst that I report that Christmas is still 16 days away, 16 different potentials for another full-blown protest for the trains Ridge has begged Santa for.
Ohhhhhh.......parenting. Thank God for spiked egg nog.