Kiso chishiki ga nai
Santa Claus came to the Pumpkin Palace and Christmas morning, the Pumpkin Prince and Princess found gifts under the tree. The Princess found a gift that the Pumpkin Mommy had refused to buy for her on her birthday two weeks ago, a battery powered monstrosity of pink plastic that flashes and sparkles and plays "Go Tell Aunt Rhodie". If that's not proof positive there is a Santa Claus, the Pumpkin Princess does not know what would possibly make your sorry soul believe.
"Aren't you glad Santa bought that for you?" the Pumpkin Daddy said to a beaming Pumpkin Princess as she made the environmentally unfriendly contraption play "Lightly Row".
"Santa doesn't buy toys, the elves make them in Santa's Workshop," I cut in.
"Santa has elves?"
"Santa has elves. They work for him, make the toys, package and wrap them, and put them in the proper sacks according to global region."
"Wow." The Pumpkin Daddy was impressed. "I wish I had elves."
And this was where the Pumpkin Prince wrestled the sparkly, shiny, tinkly toxic landfill fodder from his older sister, and WWIII broke out in the Pumpkin Palace living room, even without intervention from Muslim Fundamentalist Extremists or quasi-communist powers going through the third generation of their regime. This did not surprise me, nor did the fact that the Pumpkin Daddy did not know Santa had elves. Just another morning at the Pumpkin Palace.