Hanukkah Envy

"I really, really just need a dreidel. I have everything else to play the game, and I already know how!" Caed followed his request with a long explanation of every rule--none of which I recall because as soon as I heard the word "spin" my eyes glazed over and I began deliberating over what frosting recipe to use for Dani's birthday cupcakes.

"Buddy, I don't even know where you get a dreidel." I replied, scooping scrambled eggs from pan to plate.

"Maah-uuum, that's so simple. Just go to Walmart. Or go online." He paused to chew a tremendously big bite of sausage. I paused to note a tremendously big serving of irony.

"And if you aren't going to do it, then I'll just have to ask Santa to bring me one." Well then. That's settled. I'm sure Santa has a huge store of the season's most popular stocking stuffer.

In other news, Caed requested potato latkes for Christmas breakfast and wished for a menorah to light during our Advent time.  It appears my little Irish boy has a severe case of Hanukkah envy. There really is a first for everything.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to run out for some last minute dreidel shopping.  To Target. Not Walmart. Because I'm all for buying a dreidel. But buying it at Walmart? Well, that's against my religion.

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