Norah is convinced all presents are for her. Yes, all presents should be for her, but it simply isn't the case. But that doesn't stop her from either ripping them open or shoving them in your face demanding, "Open dis, pleeeease." I have decided to wrap all the gifts in healthy food labels or bubble bath, so that she won't touch them.
Norah loves Santa. Well, in theory. She actually met Santa in person last week and was flipping terrified. But that's not the point of this. She loves Santa. Santa says "Ho ho ho!" Santa equals everything Christmas-y, which apparently means everything says, "Ho ho ho," including reindeer, snowmen, lights, gift wrap, everything. Somehow, Santa's catchphrase became another noun for him. And for everything Christmas. Check out the Norah Loves Santa post.
But now it's rampant. If we drive past Christmas lights? "More hos, pleeeeease!" See Santa on TV? "More hos, pleeeease!" A commercial interrupts Charlie Brown's Christmas? "Where da hos?" We walked by our new Catholic daycare/school's plastic, glowing nativity scene and Norah cheerfully called out, "Bye, hos!" Uh-oh.
Speaking of our new, Catholic daycare/school, it is going swimmingly. She loves it. I picked her up and as we walked down the hallway, she enthusiastically pointed to all the Christmas decorations on the walls.
I oohed and ahhed appropriately and she beamed as if she had made every last one of the cotton-ball glued, glitter-spattered pieces of art. At the entrance, there's a picture of Jesus. Out of curiosity, I asked her, "Who's that?"
"Jim," she said, matter-of-factly.
I blinked. "Oh." They must be good buddies if He lets her call him Jim.
I told this story to my mom, wondering if Jim-the-guy-who-worked-on-their-roof was a long-hair like Jesus and she said he was not. Then she seemed extremely concerned about Norah's lack of knowledge about Christ. I sense a Christian-themed gift under the tree as we speak.