Have yourself a (Hallo)weeny little Christmas

I have graduated to a new level of mommydom. My husband had the day off, so we took the kids to McDonald’s to let the little guy play in the dirty germ-infested play land thingy. My sweet little baby girl isn’t even old enough to sit up by herself, so she happily stayed with us while my two-year-old son played. I’m glad he had fun because I found it difficult to be relaxed while he was in the depths of the twisty blue stairs where I couldn’t see him. At least he’s a talker. Being able to hear his voice allowed me some consolation that he wasn’t scared or hurt. He did well, and I must say it was encouraging to see the caliber of niceness that the other children possessed.

The day was beautiful, so naturally we decided to go to the mall and walk around. Inside. Go figure. Anyway, I wanted to see the Christmas trees. I know that Halloween hasn’t passed yet, but as soon as we have some chilly days my mind instantly darts ahead to mistletoe and Bing Crosby.

We arrived and hustled through the doors of the department store and there they were. The Christmas trees. Green ones, and pink ones, and white ones! Oh, my! Right across from the Grim Reaper. A big, fluffy balloon of a Reaper. He towered over a tree dressed for the Nutcracker ballet in a menacing kind of way. So festive.

My little man did not even notice the long, white knuckly fingers of the skeletal Halloween decorations he was so intent on the happily sparkling trees. He jogged from tree to tree taking it all in. Daddy tried to show him some wooden ornaments in the shape of a star. My son had the same thought about those that I did. He said, “pretzels”; I thought that they looked like glued together pretzels too.