January 24, 2013
Last night Owen and I sat on his bed, getting ready for bed, playing and talking. He decided he wanted to take two trucks to bed so he could play before he fell asleep. He turned them over, saw writing on the bottoms of each and asked me what they said.
Me: Made in China.
Owen: Santa makes toys in China?
Me: That's right. Santa brought you those, didn't he?
Owen: Yeah. So, he makes toys in China.
Me: I guess he outsources.
(No. I did not just say that.)
Owen: What's outsourcing?
Me: Well, I'm sure Santa has toys made all over the world because there are so many children. Don't you think?
Owen: Yeah. There are elves in China?
Me: Yes. Yes, there are most definitely elves in China.
Owen: If you're an elf, how do you get to work for Santa? Does he find them and ask them?
Me: I'm sure Santa knows all the elf families and I expect there are elf families who've worked for Santa for generations all over the world.
Owen: Are they kids?
Me: Elves? No, they're mostly adults who are just little.
Owen: How does he get all the toys from China or all over the world to the North Pole so they can go on his sleigh?
Me: Freighters. Massive freighters that sail the world, collect toys and take them directly to the North Pole.
Owen: Good night daddy.
(Oh thank god.)
Me: Good night Owen.