Ahh, there’s nothing like the smell of bleach in the afternoon. Am I right, or am I right?

That’s correct. I’m wrong, it’s horrible, and I’m blinking through the fumes in order to write this post. Dedication, it’s what’s for second lunch.

You’ll recall the main drain flooded in the basement not too long ago. Now that the water’s evaporated and left a disgusting sludge on the laundry room floor, Husband drew the short straw and gets to bleach the floor. Ladies, keeping your man around is all about finding little tasks for him to do that make him feel special. Sewage, romance, they’re basically interchangeable around here.

And while he’s working on tending them there home fires, we have time to talk about how I’m only five percent ready for Christmas.

If you’ve already completed your shopping, have everything wrapped, and are now drinking home made eggnog while reading this, you may stay. Just know it’s very frustrating for me, and I’m booking you as my personal assistant for next year. Congrats!

Now then, all I do know is that Mrs. Claus poked around Amazon and, at least, finished buying things for small Kellermans. I simply threw three units of world peace in my cart and hit the road.

(Kidding. My children are three and want material goods. Small people only only accept currency the form of something tangible in their sticky little hands. If you don’t believe me, try giving a preschooler a few words of wisdom on their birthday instead of something made of plastic, and see what happens. How many eyes do you have left?)

And, although I breathed a small sigh of relief for getting their shopping done a tad early, it was also with a special knowing that everything I’d just carefully picked out was completely wrong. Had thought gone into it? Yes. Had I ordered empty boxes again, in the hopes they’d believe they were “Decorate a box” kits? I’d thought about it.

No, when you have small children, disappointment is real factor for one, simple reason.

They remember nothing.

How To Make Sure Your Small Children Are Disappointed On Christmas

1.) Listen very carefully to what they want.

2.) Have multiple conversations with them about the one thing they want Santa to bring the most.

3.) On their arm, have them tattoo the name of the one thing they want because they’re that sure of what they want.

4.) Buy exactly the one thing they woke you up in the middle of the night to tell you they would die without. Most people chug through life without a Lego pirate ship, but survival is a mulch-facited minx.

5.) Have this conversation. If you have twins, have it twice:

“So, do you think Santa will bring Spider Man?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want Iron Man.”

“But you’ve been telling me for weeks you wanted a Spider Man more than anything.”

“No, I said I wanted Iron Man. Santa will bring an Iron Man. I asked him.”

“Did Santa mention any extra money he’d be leaving in or around Mommy and Daddy’s bank account? Next to the cookies, perhaps?”

“No.”

“Hypothetically speaking, what’ll happen if Santa brings you Spider Man instead?”

“He won’t. I asked him for Iron Man.”

“Well, I can see you’ve thought of everything. If you need me, I’ll be over in that corner, re-assessing my skills of deduction and that of a parent. How do you feel about world peace?”

As far as I can tell, Christmas morning should be interesting. I can only hope the twins aren’t too mad at Santa because their memories failed them terribly. On the upshot, maybe the house won’t smell like bleach that day either.

This is Mrs. Claus dreaming the impossible dream. Over and out.

Paige Kellerman blogs about marriage, babies and gin at www.paigekellerman.com, and is the author of . You can reach her at .