Things are, as usual, crazy here. But more so than usual for the past few days. In between crazy car trouble and new job opportunities and decisions needing to be made concerning both, my two youngest children have decided to become demon children and eat my soul.
Just kidding on the demon thing.
On a happier note, rather than doing his normal Santa visiting routine of standing 10 feet back and hollering out his toy requests (oh, please don't let the big fat hairy guy look at me! Please no touching! No! No sitting on him! Don't let him look at me!) , Braeden actually sat on Santa's lap today. His school went on a field trip to the mall to see the big guy. Braeden sat in his lap. IN.HIS.LAP. And told him he wanted trucks for Christmas. By the time we got home this afternoon, the Christmas list sounded something like this:
A red fire truck
A white bus
A yellow car
A yellow dump truck
TWO purple BIG trucks
And a hundred cars.
Wow. He has really grasped this whole ask Santa and get presents thing.
I wonder when he learned the number 100? Damn school.