Damn you, wonderful neighbors!

I asked the dreaded question of my middle daughter today.

I had asked the same question over a month ago. The question that strikes dread in the heart of parents everywhere.

 What should Santa bring you this year?

The middle child is the real wild card. The oldest has a list as long as I am tall and as wide as the Mississippi, most of which hell will freeze over before I will purchase. It's a game with her, an exercise in parental manipulation...she knows I will instantly rip the list in half and hand the lower half back to her for another day, then knock seven or eight things off the remainder as completely outlandish. Her game is to try and get me to pick what she really wants...my game is to make her think I didn't, until the day of. So far, Mommy's ahead 11 years. We'll see how I do this year.

The youngest doesn't give a damn.

So I asked, the middle child, that dreaded question, because these next two years are the magic years. The years Santa isn't Daddy and the Santa's sled is not a bright blue sedan. The thought of Christmas lights the child from within, and she wants....(drum roll.....please!)

A car. A car she can really ride in, to be exact. A car like the sweet, wonderful little boy across the way has. A car that will likely eat my entire budget for her up, and doesn't deal with the fact that there is already a sack of toys purchased in July for the child. A car that is very similar to the car I wanted at that age. I remember the look of shock on my mother's face, as she snapped, "no, that's too expensive."

A car.

Do I even try to pull this one off?