Stupid Jedi Mind Tricks

There is this really annoying sound that Alexis can make with her fingers and her face and, well, I can't really explain it, but I'd rather listen to her making that sound over and over and over again into a megaphone than be on the losing end of her Jedi Mind Tricks. Which is to say, good grief I hate it when the child proves that she remembers every freakin' thing I tell her.

The whole thing with the pierced ears sort of worked out in the end, with her getting to have her ears pierced, just as I promised her an entire year prior. In exchange, I got this alien life form who actually sleeps in her own bed. No, really. She completely conformed into a law-abiding citizen once I let her get little slivers of white gold stabbed into her head. It kind of makes me wonder if I could negotiate to get her to stay in bed past 7:00 am if I were to just promise her she could get her nipples pierced. Totally a fair trade.

I should mention, however, that the pierced ears are this little Jedi Mind Trick that has Energizer Bunny-like staying power. Christmas Day we were driving to Epic Holiday-Palooza #2 when a little voice squealed from the back seat, "IT'S CHRISTMAS!"

"And?" I asked. I would have thought that the mountain of gifts she had already opened that day would have driven that point well past home.

"I get to change my earrings!" she replied.

Oh.

That.

I had promised her she could take out the studs for Christmas, only I promised it WAY, WAY, WAY back in August. I can't remember what I had for lunch today, but the kid can remember five syllables I used to shut her little trap at a time when I was desperate for silence. "Wait until Christmas." WHOOPS.

Fortunately, I had vaguely recalled making some sort of random promise about earrings and Christmas, so Santa had stumbled into a big box store in search of some child-friendly earrings just two days prior. Several hours, an aneurysm, and a BAH HUMBUG, later, the one cashier in the entire store had finally managed to swipe those earrings across the laser lighty thing (technical term) and taken some money. Alexis bringing up anything to do with earrings was sort of a special Christmas gift that conjured nightmares and flashbacks and the PTSD associated with that shopping trip.

Oh, and did I mention that *Santa* had bought the earrings and not me? Yeah. Santa hit our house in Pittsburgh on Christmas Eve, a full six hours away from where we were when that little voice was all EARRINGS! EARRINGS! NOW! NOWNOWNOW!

Try explaining to a four-year old that the only place that sells earrings on Christmas Day is probably a place that specializes in tattoos, blow, and STDs. It's fun.

Eventually the whole earring thing worked itself out. Along the way, I decided to start tattooing anything that I promise Alexis somewhere on my body. First up, tonight's promise.

As I was tucking her in for the night, Alexis turned to me and asked a fantastic question. "When I'm all grown up, can I call people stupid?" she asked.

She's not allowed to call people "stupid," right now. I have told her repeatedly it's a grown-up word and that she can't use it when describing people.

"Sure, you can call people 'stupid' when you're an adult," I replied. I mean, why not?

"Do you promise?" she asked.

"Absolutely. I promise," I replied.

I'll go ahead and just get "Stupid" tattooed on my forehead this weekend so I can remember that I made that promise.

Rebecca Is In My Corner

There seems to be a general, "Awww, man. That sucks," sort of vibe going around about the FAIL that was the American Girl Doll. Not so, my friends. Not so at all. In fact, the whole thing could not have possibly worked out any better for me. Here's why:

1. If the husband ever again hands the kid a catalog that I have asked be banished from our home, he has to lick a bug zapper. Twice. While it's plugged in and caked in dead bug guts. I think that's only fair.

2. Next year when Christmas rolls around again and Alexis starts to ask for whatever over-priced thing she decides to ask for, I will be able to respond to her begging with, "You DO remember the American Girl Doll thing, right?"

3. I might repeat the second thing each and every Christmas for the rest of the child's life. Things like, "But I really want it!" will easily be countered with, "Yeah, well, you really wanted Rebecca, too. Let's watch a little video, shall we?"

4. The first time Alexis starts swooning over some snot-faced jerkface of a pretty boy, I'll be able to say, "Look, he's your Rebecca. You need to find your Alvin. He's out there in this world, you just have to keep tearing through all that gift wrap."

5. Two words: Profit Opportunity. I once spent a Saturday afternoon trolling eBay for used Rebecca dolls. It didn't take long to discover a very strange trend--people are willing to pay more for American Girl Dolls than they are worth. I saw one go for $50 more than they are directly from the company, and she had scraggly hair and was missing her shoes. People are so weird. While I do expect that Alexis will (eventually) start playing with her doll, if she doesn't? She's out of here, and I'm pocketing the money.

See? Not a bad thing. Not at all. Mwahahaha!

Santa Claus Swings and . . .

So, we did that super-annoying six-hour drive back from Indianapolis today. It's soooo boring. We have to drive through Columbus and St. Clairsville and . . . what? You didn't stop by to hear about a drive filled with dog farts and Tim Horton's Timbits? Really?

Oh.

Oh, THAT. The American Girl doll saga. I almost forgot.

First, if you didn't catch the beginning of this story, let me sum it up. American Girl catalog comes in mail. Woman is unable to stop man as he hands said catalog to short person. Bad things happen. Girl finds doll she likes and starts pleading. Woman says NO WAY because woman does not believe in spending that sort of money on dolls. Man is all in favor of the doll because man is silly. Santa hears the request for the silly-expensive doll and decides he will deliver, but only after he grants woman the right to torture the kid endlessly. And torture she does.

Santa snuck into our house while we were in Indianapolis, so Alexis rushed into the house once we returned to see if she had made the Nice List. And, well, here . . .

Let's review, shall we?

Girl unwraps doll.

Girl is mildly amused.

Girl snaps from mildly amused to wondering if there are other gifts in 1.00004 seconds.

Girl is far more amused by some earrings.

Girl is SUPER AMUSED by Alvin.

Woman swears girl will never, ever get another American Girl doll again. The end.