D: We should drive around and see Christmas lights one of these nights.
Me: Should we go to the scary Christmas house again this year?
D: Scary? It’s not scary – it’s just… a lot of stuff.
Me: Are you kidding me? It’s where Christmas nightmares are made.*
Bean: Mummy! Daddy’s not kidding you. He’s kidding he’s self.
Me & D: (laughter)
Bean: I not kidding myself.
Me: No, you’re very serious, aren’t you?
Bean: I not serious, I a happy boy.
Me: Oh. You’re not kidding, you’re not serious, you’re happy.
Bean: Yeah. And Mummy, when I grow so big I can go in a truck.
D: It’s always about the truck in the end.
Bean: When I grow up so big I can go in Santa’s sled.
*Seriously it is the craziest, over-stimulating-est thing you’ve ever seen. Giant inflatables loom overhead. Lights blink everywhere. Every inch of the property is covered with wooden cutouts and figurines of every cartoon and fictional character imaginable, dressed in Christmas garb and Santa hats (from Alf to Mickey Mouse). They whirl around on miniature ferris wheels, go back and forth on slow-motion swings, slide around ice skating rinks, all to the eery tune of tinny Christmas carols and the creaking of rusty machinery.