"Santa skipped our house this year, dear, this big one's from US!"
Happy Festi-kwanz-ukah-mas, everyone. Hope you all found the true meaning of Christmas wrapped up in coloured paper with a pretty bow.
I've decided to let Syd in on the Santa thing a little early, like next year. Santa was nice enough to bring her a Barbie Jeep and of course, it was, and is, a big hit. She was concerned Santa wouldn't be able to find the tree from the second floor balcony so she made a sign for the door showing him the way.
So we put all this effort into maintaining the illusion and getting these gifts that clearly overshadow ours (we got her a dress and some socks) and when all is said and done, Santa takes all the credit. What makes it even more frustrating is that if were anyone else other than Santa, she'd have nightmares about this guy who's always watching her and is guaranteed to break into our house once a year while we're sleeping.
Anyway, it didn't take long for Syd to change her future career once she got into the driver's seat. The Jeep was “kinda fun” for a while until I realized that high gear was blocked for “safety reasons” (i.e. some twit in the U.S. probably sued Mattel because his poor excuse for evolution couldn't pick up on the physics of momentum quick enough). After that, the fun factor jumped three or four notches, especially when she discovered that the brakes can be used for turning, Dukes of Hazzard-style.