Wednesday, December 30, 2009

magnetic poetry

It's my gift to Greta this year. It was the last thing opened, but now that it's out of the box, it is serving to amuse.

Poem One (in all honesty, it was destroyed before I had a chance to remember it, but it included a pink baby.)

Poem Two:

Imagine
bird dog flies home
to magic baby
eating

Poem Three:

Something dog is going on hold your
nose.

Poem Four:

hot pig family special see red is a cloud tiger bed window woman

Monday, December 14, 2009

All I want for Christmas

Greta has decided that she doesn't want to sit on Santa's lap this year. She doesn't want anything from him. It helps, of course, to have a birthday on December 14 when you are a child who is too shy to sit on an old man wearing a ridiculously insulated suit in the middle of suburban shopping mall. I suspect that she'll cave, but for now she has opted out of the Santa gift.

Graham told me that he too would like to stay away from Santa. Why? Because he only wants coal anyway. For what? To put in his special treasure box.

Greta was on to him and asked, "Graham, is it because TRAINS use coal?"

Yep.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

feral cat

This is what Greta wants for Christmas. She spelled it on her Wishlist written at school:

ferrel cat

Do you see anything but feral cat there?

She means a FurReal Cat. It's a name brand, hot item: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B001TMA03U/ref=pd_lpo_k2_dp_sr_1?pf_rd_p=486539851&pf_rd_s=lpo-top-stripe-1&pf_rd_t=201&pf_rd_i=B00006782E&pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_r=0HRETD95RCC94N9XVNMN

Note the price is over $70. Seriously kid? We have a for real, non-feral cat. Of course, she plans on asking Santa for it. Awesome.

I can not thank the Kindergarten teacher enough for having the kids write their wish lists at tables together. Greta had never heard of this item, but saw that Katie had it written on her paper. Apparently, she trusts Katie's judgement in the toy department because she put it right at the top of her own list. Yes, indeed, for a second time, the power of the Christmas marketers have managed to find me despite my attempts to steer clear of advertising with my children. I'm still hopeful that something like a marble run will be emitted on Santa's lap tomorrow, but I'd bet on the feral cat if I had to.