Well, I lost the battle of the inflatables.
Hubs and I have been in an ongoing discussion about whether or not we will have inflatable Christmas thingies in our front yard this year. He wants them (for D., of course) and I do not....make that, DID not.
Call me Scrooge, Grinch, what have you...I just am not a big fan of the blow up snowman or Santa Clause--both of which now call my front yard their temporary home. My dear hubby argues that kids love them and why shouldn't we do it for our son? I do understand that and that is the main reason I gave in. I guess my beef is that they are EVERYwhere. And, I just wanted to do something a little different. Oh well.
The main point of contention came when I agreed to the snowman, off to the side a bit, but no Santa. Let a girl ease into the idea, you know. Apparently hubs FORGOT our compromise. As I descended the stairs this evening, I spotted the jolly ol' man in all of his illuminated red glory right in the smack dab middle of our front island nearest the road.
And, of course, when I mention it to my hubby, he responds (in an UNwhispered voice), "OK, we'll take Santa down, Mommy." Yeah sure, make Mom the "heavy." I might as well have declared there is no Christmas right then and there because the look on my son's face was pure horror.
As much as I like to imagine that having another child will give me someone for "my team," I am not that naive. Next Christmas, it will be three against one and our front yard will probably look like a new reality show "Inflatable Nation."
I'm gonna need some of that "special" egg nog, if you know what I mean.
With Fondest Seasonal Greetings I Remain,
The Mommy That Wanted to Kill Santa Clause