Like the holiday light show we went to, complete with a basketball playing Santa and the ever-Christmas-y T-Rex chase:
Perhaps this is a nod to Hermey, the little blond elf in Rudolph who really wants to be a dentist, but I kind of doubt it. More likely some local dentist forked over some cash to have a tooth displayed in the festival to remind parents that all those candy canes are rotting their kids' teeth. Point taken, Mr. DDS.
Then, of course, there was Christmas Eve and The Big Day, where Ethan gorged his toy-loving soul on presents! presents! and more presents! On Christmas Eve, we baked cookies for Santa and even wrote a little card for him:
notice how my child has hung his art work all over our living room (and by "art work" I mean 15 sheets of paper out of the printer with one line of pen scribbled on each). The museum of E.
And on Christmas day, the gluttony of plastic, lead-painted, right off the boat from China toy binge began. Although I will assuage your fears that my child is a toy-hungry greedy spoiled brat; he randomly told me one day last month, as he was climbing into his carseat, "Mommy, did you know that the true meaning of Christmas is to be nice to our friends and let them know how much we love them? It's not just about toys." Ahhhhh, my little parrot. I don't know who he heard it from, but it was a very Linus-y moment and it made me happy. Of course, I'm sure he couldn't have recited that Golden-Rule-esque sentiment when he was neck deep in holly-jolly wrapping paper and a small mountain of presents, but still...