Yesterday morning, my five year old son spent some quality time with the sale ads from the Sunday newspaper. He gasped and sighed his way through toy section after toy section, finally finding the object of his desire.

"Mom! We gotta go! Get dressed, get dressed! Where are my shoes?"

I was still sipping coffee, in sweats and slippers, unaware of any place we needed to go at 7 am.

"Mommy! We need to go! I have to tell him!"

"Where is the fire, little dude?" I yawned and swigged on my coffee.

"I found the superdinorifficexcellentthingie and I have to tell Santa right now so the elves have time to make it."

"Oh! Okay, well, we can go see Santa today, but I'd like to get your hair cut first, so we can get cute pictures, too."

"Whatever. Let's do that first then. Come on, come on!"

I marched him to the bathroom and rummaged around for the clippers. He gave me a straight-armed hand to my face and said "Oh no. We are going to the big-boy barber's."

Fine. Except it didn't work out yesterday, and anyway, he found a few other superawesomemommydidyouseethisitssooooocooooooooool things to show Santa last night. I sent him off to school this morning still jabbering about how he has to get to Santa pronto.

The child has bidness to discuss with the Man in Red, and he figures I better get him there now.

Hah. I'll pick him up and take him for a haircut after school. And if they seem to be holding it together, we might venture to the mall to see the man. Judging from our normal after school behavior, I think we might want to hold off, but who knows? This could be a good thing, right?