Is it too late to develope an allergy?

While I was away in the land of Disney, Kelli posted a couple of blogs in my stead and one really hit home.  She talked about her daughter’s campaign for a new pet.  I’ve got a lot of that going on her at the Bright Compound, too.

While we were in Disneyland, we visited Santa.  He was there with his reindeer.  I had no idea reindeer were as fuzzy as they are.  I was expecting a deer-like pelt, but no.  Their antlers are even fuzzy.  It makes an animal lover’s palm itch to pet them, however Disney did not approve.

Tangent alert.

There was also an enormous white turkey living at Santa’s homestead.  I know, weird right?  But then I saw a plaque.  It stated that particular tom was the lucky turkey pardoned by Barak Obama this year.  Apparently after the pardoning, he was loaded on “Turkey 1” and flown to live out the remainder of his existence at the “Happiest Place on Earth”.  Quite the life, huh?

Back to the story.  We waited in line to see Santa because, as My Honey so succinctly put it, it would give us a free pass from the mall one.  Also, I suspected this Santa would be an awesome Santa.  Disney would only have the best, right? 

When we got to the front of the line, I leaned in to hear what Sassy and the Bandit would ask for.  You can find out a lot of important information by eavesdropping on private conversations with Santa.  Sassy didn’t say anything I wasn’t already privy to, so there were no surprises there.  The Bandit however.  Oh dear God.

“And what do you want little boy?” Santa leaned over his jolly belly and listened intently to my son.

He listed several things I already knew about.  All was well in the universe.  Then he dropped the bomb.  “And I really, really want a golden retriever puppy.”

What! I leaned in because I couldn’t possibly have heard him correctly. 

“A puppy,” Santa repeated and nodded.  He looked directly into my panic stricken face and damn if I couldn’t see a twinkle in his blue eyes.

I shook my head desperately and made slashing motions across my throat.

“Yeah, a golden retriever puppy.  I’m gonna name him…” And there’s where I passed out.

From what My Honey tells me, Santa had the presence of mind to tell my child he would have to discuss the puppy idea with his parents, and having a puppy is a huge responsibility.  Unfortunately, My Son’s interpretation of how things were summed up is quite different.  He is under the impression Santa unequivocally agreed to the puppy plan.  In fact, as soon as we got back to the hotel, he insisted on writing a reminder letter to Santa.

Now he talks about his new puppy constantly, almost as if this puppy already lives here and is a part of our lives.  We’ve had very earnest conversations about how asking Santa for something doesn’t guarantee delivery of such item, but he is convinced the puppy will be here on Christmas morning.  A golden retriever puppy specifically.  I don’t know where he learned of such a breed, or how he decided it was the one for him.

Roscoe, the Idiot Dog, desperately needs a friend, it’s true, but I don’t know how this is going to end.  Stay tuned and I’ll keep you informed how the Great Golden Retriever Puppy Plan of Christmas 2010 comes along.