frosty.

I'm trying to recollect whether or not I've ever had to listen to one song over and over as many times as I just listened to "Frosty the Snowman." How many times? If I had to estimate, I'd say, let's see: it's 50 seconds long, and it played constantly for 3 hours. So, at least 200 or so.

See, as a gift from someone without any foresight at all (or someone who doesn't have to live with the boys), Dylan and Cole each received some sort of Christmas toy that plays music. Dylan's was a dancing snowman that plays "Frosty the Snowman", and so the entertainment went as follows: one of the boys would press play, and they'd dance around like crazy for 50 seconds; the song would finish, and then immediately, compulsively they'd press play again, dance like crazy, rinse, repeat, etc. It was extremely endearing for the first half-hour, and the second half-hour turned to a sort of disbelief, like "they can't really still be doing this, can they?" The next hour was kind of like being at the dentist's office without the upside of getting anything fixed. The third hour was as I imagine prison to be: repetitive, dreary, hopeless.

And it wasn't as if you could even leave the house to escape, because lurking just outside the front door, across the street was this:

















The neighbor's Christmas tableau. Which, in addition to being visually obnoxious (you can't tell in this picture, but all of these lights blink), also plays nonstop tinny music that you can hear from our front door, including "Frosty the Snowman." I'm pretty sure this is against the law.

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Had a great Reuben for lunch at the Four Peaks Brewing Co. Parentals had cheeseburgers and fries (Pitty: roasted Anaheim chili, pepper jack cheese and sweet jalapeno dressing; Daddoo: fresh, sauteed jalapeno, onion straws and cream cheese), and they ate every scrap on their plates like good parents.

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