September 14, 2010
Turtle Revisited
I'm currently in a Thanksgiving rant mode. But I'll spare you the details, except to say, those of us living high on the hog in North American middle class society ought to be thankful all the time.
Which leads me to my point: Hallowe'en. A holiday I've just never really liked, elementary school sleepovers at Allyson's house notwithstanding, because that was good fun. Me not liking Hallowe'en of course meant that once I had children, I get to live it all the time. Which is totally fun, unlike Hallowe'en itself.
Confused yet? Me too.
Exhibit A: The Turtle
I made said costume two years ago. It was cute, he wore it one evening to a cute toddler Hallowe'en party, I had fantasies of him cuddling beatifically on the couch with shell. Or maybe bucolically.
They say dogs can smell fear. Kids can smell a parental agenda a mile away.
So now, he loves the turtle costume. This is exciting, because it gets him out of his seasonally inappropriate, hideous, worn for 4-months-straight-I-kid-you-not Lightning McQueen outfit. He got the outfit courtesy of Grandmaman's cleaning lady. There's a part of me that loves that she wanted to get him something. There's another part of me that has dreaded the inevitable meltdown every time we have to wash said outfit, and watched him snatch it from the wet laundry basket and put it on wet.
But I digress. The small obsessive one is gleefully a turtle, and of course only the green pyjama pants that are 3 inches too short will do to go with them, and the green t-shirt he inexplicably will only wear backwards. The baby outfit is out of the rotation for the time being, there is new material waiting to make flannel lined fireman jammies for the fireman obsession, and Sir Topham Hatt has made a few cameo appearances around here lately.
In the meantime, Felix is picking up the fireman slack.
And Sebbie is trying a few new identities on for size.
And why so long winded? I'm procrastinating writing an uplifting rant about Thanksgiving. It just makes my eyes roll back in my head, and makes me wonder why I said I would.