Claws

we're taking the baby to see Santa tonight.
when we prepped her ( ok, when *I* prepped her) the conversation went a little like this:

me: ok, so when Santa's says, "Hello there little girl, what's your name?" what do you say?
foo: Foo*
me: and when he says, "and have you been a good little girl this year, Foo?" what do you say
foo: You betcha' Santa.
me: and when he says, "well then, what can I bring you for Christmas?" what do you say
foo: toys!
me: and when he says, "what kind of toys do you want?" what are you going to tell him
foo: a deer
me: a deer? what kind of deer?
foo: a little deer we can put in the yard at my house

that's right, friends, my little girl wants a lighted yard deer from Santa for Christmas. don't you doubt for a minute that shortly after the first time we had this conversation, i trotted my big-mommy-backside off to Target and got her a lighted yard deer. my husband and i decided we're going to put it on the front porch for her to find on Christmas morning.

in other news we're still plugging along with the house. it won't kill me, i'm certain of it. i'm just really REALLY wondering if we're actually going to be able to have folks over between the holidays... at least without having to issue them some sort of tool or paint brush when they walk through the door. my husband assures me that we'll be just fine. but that's not really my style - - being all relaxed and having faith in things working out. i'm more the peel your nails off and stress until the last minute when it all actually does fall into place kind.

- - breathe - -

i'm off to lunch with a friend i haven't seen in months.