A whole big ball o'random.

Oh. my. stinkin'. heck.

The marketing brains behind this are brilliant. And by brains, I mean obviously women. I know you'll be laughing out loud. (It's a little long, but worth it.)



Now for some cuteness from that three-year-old son of mine, which must, of course, be typed down before I forget it:

1. I played a game of "memory" this evening with my son. "Memory" is the card game by Milton Bradley that has been around at least since my own childhood, but which now has various forms, one of which being the "Backyardigans" version that was gifted to my son today by a neighbor. When played with a three-year-old, this equals a rare and special form of Chinese water torture, for those of you who have yet to experience it. Despite my getting a little frustrated every two seconds from trying to keep all the cards straight on the floor, my kid from picking up more than two cards at a time, and my kid from taking more than one turn at a time, I do know that it really is an excellent educational game. We talked the entire game about making a "match", and by the end of the evening, my boy had it down what defines a "match". He even made several matches on his own out of 72 cards based straight on his little memory of what he had seen. I was impressed! My reward for the evening came at bedtime, when he looked up into my eyes and said, "We a match, Mama?". Oh my, son, we are SO VERY MUCH A MATCH. And I couldn't imagine it any other way. I'll take Chinese water torture for the rest of my life, thankyouverymuch, if it means I get to be matched with this crazy little guy.

2. For about a month now we have been asking him what he was planning on telling Santa he wanted for Christmas. I thought for sure this year he would finally "clue in" about Christmas and presents and how it's the season to hit paydirt, so to speak, in terms of getting every little thing his heart desires. I figured the "gimme's" would arrive this season, the impatience would kick in, and the begging for every single toy he could think of would start. But no. His steady and constant answer to our persistent question was this: "A candy cane, Mama". And sure enough, when the day actually came for him to sit upon Santa's knee, he stuck with his plan and asked for a candy cane. Love that. (And don't worry, he's getting more than just a candy cane this year!)

3. Top it all off with the fact that I ask him what Christmas is, and he flat out says, "Haha Barebay, Baby Jesus!" (Happy Birthday, Baby Jesus), and that makes for one grateful Mama.

4. Tonight's nightly prayer was a good one (they are usually quite entertaining) -- he thanked God for God, Jesus, toothpaste, and the sky. Oh, and my ratings must be up because I made his prayer list. ;)

Back at ya' tomorrow, maybe even with some pictures if you're lucky, haha.