HO HO HO and a bottle of wine.

AKA one down, twelve to go?

You know that crazy family member that everyone has that always shows up to the Christmas party drunk and smelling of peppermint schnapps? I am slowly becoming that person. Although I don't like peppermint, I prefer wine and I have not showed up to a Christmas party drunk yet, but I had good intentions last night. Mason, you know your mom is cool when she stuffs a bottle of wine in your diaper bag, fully intending on numbing herself to the crazy Christmas madness. That poor bottle of wine remained unopened. I set him safely in his new home, our fridge, and let him know that Wednesday would be his day to shine. His day to make my Christmas a little merrier.

Instead, that fat bastard jolly old elf named Santa showed up and gave my kid a present. Mason stared at him longingly until it was his turn to sit on his lap and then this happened:

FAIL. He didn't cry but he squirmed until Santa could not contain him anymore and ran away with the goods. Speaking of the goods.

Ahh, presents. He's a quick learner.

See there? He got a PICKUP TRUCK.

And now...A FIRE ENGINE! He liked his poor cousin's fire engine better (the kid has a thing for red) so he ganked it, luckily without getting into a fight with his generous, trading cousin.

And now we are the proud owners of ANOTHER noise-making fire engine. Merry Christmas.