My eldest daughter just splurged.
Out of her very own piggy bank, with her very own hard earned money (saved from performing “mundane chores” around the house) she bought my son a Ferrari.
You got that right, a bright red, steaming hot Ferrari.
My son is in heaven.
Needless to say, he was beyond thrilled. The excitement was pulsating from his tiny head to his toes as he ripped open the wrapping paper of his birthday present at our local Italian joint where we took him last week to celebrate.
Hours and hours of uninterrupted bliss (from a Mom’s perspective) keeping him busy for hours straight as he carefully figures out the intricate puzzle of 629 Lego pieces. Forget about Calgon taking me away, Legos take me away!
Moms, take it from me, this car is a mother’s dream come true.
If my daughter wants to keep giving him gifts that are this ingenious, maybe her father and I should raise her allowance. I only hope my son isn't expecting a real Ferrari to be sitting in the driveway for his 18th birthday.
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