Jack has been begging for weeks now for the Power Wheels Mustang for Christmas. They have it at Wal-Mart, and every time we go there (which is more often than is probably decent to admit) he asks, very sweetly, to please go and just look at the mustang. "Please Mommy? Please, can we? Please, I just look at it?"
And so, in spite of my better judgment (and the fact that we have absolutely nowhere to store the dang thing) it appears Santa may just bring Jack his heart's desire this year. But, of course, he doesn't know that. And so he still, at every opportunity, reminds us that he has not forgotten.
Our Vonage service provides a toll-free number to call Santa and leave him a voicemail, which they then email to you as an audio file. Because I'm gratuitously obsessed with my child, I decided to share the wonder of this with you all. And, yes... that's me in the background, prompting him to talk louder because Santa can't hear you when you whisper. Which makes no sense, when you think about it. I mean, if he sees you when you're sleeping and he knows when you're awake... well, he certainly should be able to figure out what you are whispering to him on his voicemail, right? So I suppose I was totally in the wrong on this one, but thank heaven I made him speak up because the voice you are about to hear might just make you weep for sheer joy at the wonder of such perfection. (Referring to his voice, of course, and not mine... which sounds suspiciously adolescent and kinda reminds me of fingernails on chalkboard. But you can ignore that, right?)
Here You Go.
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