Harry: Yeah.
Me: And you know he'll bring you a treat or two if you're a really good boy.
Harry: Yeah.
Me: And you can ask him for what you want, and he'll maybe bring it to you. I mean, if the elves can make it, and if it fits in his sleigh.
Harry: I know.
Me: So what do you want?
Harry: Rock and roll.
Me: Really? What kind of rock and roll do you want?
Harry: Brown.
I have a theory that people who are hard to shop for are genetically disposed to be this way. In other words, all the boys in my family will be receiving coal this year. Fair waring.
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