On the Eighth Day of Christmas Crazy ...

... I wished for the ability to know when I'm about to hit on something magical. Just once. Okay, so it might be nice to always know when an idea that's about to fly out of my mouth is a good one, but I'll settle for sometimes knowing.

That's to say, I had no idea it was a good idea when I did it. I said the words mostly out of annoyance; not because of any sort of agenda. AND YET.

It started with Mila digging in her Halloween candy for the 1359835193rd time. The kid will live on junk if given the choice. That much has been clear. I thought that if I gave her open access to her candy, she would grown tired of it quickly.

A mere mortal would grow tired of candy. Mila is not a mere mortal.

So I eventually told her to stop. In my hurry to say something threatening that would make her quit already with the candy nonsense, I said, "You have to give your Halloween candy to Santa or he won't deliver toys."

You guys. YOU GUYS.

Mila packed up every last drop of her Halloween candy and put it in a Christmas-themed candy dish. She then set it beside the weird Santa figure in our dining room.

It's still there.

It's been ... more than a week.

Mila has seriously checked to make sure the candy was where it belonged, but then left it there. Not eating it.

I really wish I had known the whole thing was a good idea. I would have done it sooner and with an even bigger flourish.

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I still need your help to make sure that kids at Center for Victims have a little joy at Christmas. You can help by doing a little shopping on Amazon or  throw a few dollars into the game.

On the eighth day of Christmas Crazy,

my true love gave to me

balls for kicking,

blocks for building,

games for playing,

things kids need,

lots of animal fiends,

crafts, paper, and pens

STEM toys they'll love

and all the things for baby.