The unintentional fun ruin-er.

Christmas is the most lovely time of year, isn't it? The snow is falling, the candles aglow, we've got Nat King Cole, singing us songs from his heart (thanks Nsync for that description), and we're only a short ways away from opening gifts and making magical memories for the littles.

Except I have this thing where I accidentally ruin all chances of surprise and I totally blow it. As the internet people say I am an "Epic fail".

Yes, I'm the jackhole who ruined the excitement and showed our kid his gift. Totally on accident, even though that doesn't make it any better.

You see, this year Theo really really really (three reallys, serious stuff) wanted a Power Wheel. And even though it goes against all of the  "no battery" rules I created for myself, I obliged because my mom had my old Barbie Corvette. Add some spray paint, a new battery and boom. Looks like new, drives like a dream.

So we've been storing it in our garage awaiting a warmer day so we can get to work on the ole' Barbie corvette rehab. Since I'm a pregnant weakling, I quickly unloaded it late at night while the boys and hubs were asleep, but my pure laziness and major lack of arm strength prevented me from being able to carry it all the way to the back of the garage. So there it sat, right in the front for all the world to see.

My plan was to never ever ever open the door, but when I locked myself out of the front (key broke, not my fault) and opened the garage for the spare key, I heard a loud exclaim from the van..."IS THAT MINE"? I knew I had been had. Not only was the gift on the line but the whole existance of Santa was hanging in thin air.

Luckily, I had not started the painting process yet, so all he saw was a dingy pink corvette. But I knew that I had to tread lightly. So this is what I said.


and you know what?I know,  he totally bought it, because he responded with a "Oh good. I didn't want a pink car anyway".

And that my friends is how your recover after almost ruining Christmas.

Here's hoping a fresh coat of paint helps keep our little secret.

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