This was the first Christmas that Quinlan's Christmas list was pretty non-negotiable. Even up until last year, she'd ask for a series of random toys which turned out to be whatever was advertised on Nick Jr between 3 and 4pm.
Even so, we were able to sway her with a super cool recycled plastic jump rope, a handmade princess crown, and a cardboard playhouse.
But this year she could write. And as the saying goes, "so let it be written, so let Santa Claus put that damn toy under the tree."
And even worse, there were only three items on her list - a Dora Snow Princess costume (which thank you sweet Jesus does not exist anywhere), a Playmobil Castle (and all it's 4000 pieces seriously wtf?), and a Baby Alive Doll.
Now we expected there to be some wavering with the list since she wrote it on September 1, but wouldn't you know that every week she'd mention how the cool it was that "there's a doll that you can feed and then it poops and then you can change it's diaper!"
Yes, for only $100 (or something like that), you can purchase a baby who eats and poops.
I kindly reminded her that we already have a baby that does that, and she's welcome to feed her and wipe her butt whenever duty calls.
In fact, I'd pay her $100 to do it.
But even up to mid-December, she was still talking about that damn doll and so I decided I'd have to "go rogue."
No no, not a Sarah Palin doll.
But close enough.
Damn those ridiculously expensive dolls that I believe were created to suck our pockets dry in the guise of teaching our girls about history.
I've rolled my eyes at those damn things for years now, my mouth agape at how much they cost and even worse how many parents are willing to plop down $100 for A DOLL.
In our previous discussions about these damn things, I told Quinlan that I would NEVER be purchasing her an American Girl doll, but would give her half the money for one, and she could earn the money for the rest.
But even then, I was hoping that her desire for one would be pushed off for at least another year, mostly so that I'd have time to institute an adequate chore schedule, thus hopefully making it a fair trade.
Clean toilets for your expensive doll. Sounds about fair to me.
However, with the Baby Alive Doll getting ready to shit all over our house, I had to take the situation into my own very reluctant hands, and so we bought her a gift card for half an American Doll.
And wouldn't you know, it worked.
She clung to that gift card like it was pure gold, and never once mentioned Baby Alive again.
And thanks to her over indulgent grandparents and aunt, she was able to return a bunch of scary looking clothes and purchase a doll, an outfit, and the ever important doll ear-piercing, that she really truly loves.
Well, this month, anyway.
And miraculously, I was able to make it through an afternoon at the American Girl store (that's complete with doll hair salon and restaurant - um, of course it is) and watch my daughter plop down $150 without rolling my eyes.
Okay, maybe just once.