"Mommy! Mommy!" he yells during the commercial.
"Yes, son, what is it?" she hollers back from her kitchen.
"I want to adopt a tiger, Mommy! Please! Pretty please! I promise I'll take care of it!"
Of course, he missed the "symbolically" part of adopting a tiger from the World Wildlife Federation Fund, and fully expected the FedEx guy to show up with a brand new, living, breathing tiger cub for him to love, and raise, and call his very own. And, of course, he only heard that it was just $8 and not the $8 per month part. And, of course, the damn commercial ends with this adorable little tiger stuffed animal. I mean, who can resist that? Who???? (Which yes, I sooo get is the very point of emotional marketing.)
But, lucky for Mommy, the commercial is over and he can only remember the 1-800-281-something-something-something-something.
"Well, maybe it'll come on again," she assures him. "Keep an eye out for the number, boy."
His mission clear, his pen at the ready, he waits, anxiously, for the commercial to come back on again.
Next thing she knows, he's jotting down a number and running up to her with an ear-to-ear smile on his face. But this one's got nothing to do with tigers. In fact, it's got nothing to do with anything an-almost-8-year-old boy should ever ever ever ever ever be concerned with. But not our boy, oh no...he's ALL over it!
"Mommy! I want theeeeese!" he exclaims excitedly.
"What, son? What are they?" she asks, looking up from the pancakes just long enough to see his lips form the words, "jammie pants!" And he shoves the half sheet of paper into her face with the 800# and a big ol' smilie face right next to it.
"They're only $3.95! Please, Mommy! Pleeeeeeeaaassseee!"
[I really just don't have anything else to say about this one.]