I Put a Spell on You

My costume this year was picked out in a line up of sorts, but for the last few months my parents have been asking me what I wanted to be for Halloween. I constantly replied that I wanted to be a fireman. Throwing suggestions left and right, every which way possible, they tried to convince me to be a pirate like Jake, or even an Army guy (what's that?), but I was steadfast in my desire to be the hero, the good guy, the one with a great costume. Only problem was, there was not a "great" fireman costume to be found. That was until the side trip to Costco with daddy. There it sat, like some sad puppy in a line up waiting to be taken home. We quickly approached to only find out the size was 5/6 and without trying it on, we walked away disappointed; but not before shooting a picture of it and sending it off to never land to end up in mommy's hot little web browsing hands. A quick search on Costco.com brought more information and it was soon decided that it had to be purchased and pray it works.

It finally arrived and I tried it on and guess what, 5/6 really means 4/5. So its a little big but that just means extra playtime. Of course I had to have boots to match and a hose to save the day. What good is a fireman without a hose that shoots water?!? The costume was complete and of course I rocked the hero look like you wouldn't believe. The only problem was, my costume stayed hanging on the back of the front door ready to be thrown on at a moments notice, or upon the happening of a fire alarm. Thankfully neither happened, but I guess it's true, waiting is the hardest part.

Finally, the day is here, the one that I learned an extra special song. You know the one that goes trick-or-treat, smell my feet, I don't care, you pull down my underwear. Oh, you don't know that song? Well neither did my parents who held a crash course in what not to say when standing on a door step begging for candy. It was stressed to the max that underwear shall not come out of my mouth otherwise I just may get what I ask for.

I woke up and threw on my costume like I was heading to a fire. Dressed to the nine's I was out the door and on my way to school to show off my duds. We had a parade, sans parents thanks to a snowstorm, and a party afterwards. Mommy showed up early with my "Thad" labeled Halloween basket being told 100 times "I want to go trick-or-treating." We headed over to Emily's where I mastered "trick-or-treat", and because of this I kept my clothes on and got lots of candy. The parental units were so proud!

The first of the end-of-year holidays is in the books and we're eating up all the candy that was thrown in my basket. It's time to hang up the duds that I am sure will be pulled out for fun for months to come. Bring on November!

Nice Guys Finish Last

If you didn't think I absolutely loved and adored my Emily, that first love is truly blossoming. While we were at school today, Emily began to cry and revealed that our classmate had hurt her. I also started crying and when asked why, I responded "because Steven hurt my girlfriend." I was then told by my teachers that I should tell Steven that it was "not nice." So, in my most angry voice, I did exactly what I was supposed to; "Don't you ever hurt my girlfriend again!"

Then it comes to light that Steven was only trying to help Emily with her jacket. So much for being a nice guy.

Please Don't Go

If you haven’t heard lately, my momma is the traveling kind. She flies all over the country to take depositions of sick men. Sounds like a good time, right? Recently I have come to realize that she leaves a lot and it is suddenly sinking in. I often ask if I can go to whatever amazing destination in her suit case. Lately she's been to Buffalo, NY, New Mexico, Ohio and even Texas.

Tonight was the first night that I expressed my desire for her not to go and that I would miss her immensely…maybe not in those exact words but something like this “I don’t want you to go cause I’m going to miss you.” Yes, leaving for vacation, as daddy calls it, is getting harder for her to do. But she usually returns with some type of goody for me, which is a nice constellation prize for the part-time motherless child.

Let's Hear it for the Boy!

I am fully potty trained and it’s all thanks to Mickey Mouse. I was having difficulty understanding why I couldn’t use my underwear like a diaper when it came to pooping. Everyone around me was losing their patients when it came to this part of the potty training because I got it, just didn't want to be a part of it. It wasn’t until my mother informed me that Mickey doesn’t allow boys who don’t poop in the potty to enter the Magic Kingdom. With that in mind you can bet my butt found that toilet promptly when the urge arose. Knowing that we would be traveling to the Magic Kingdom within a month really motivated me. So there you have it folks! It’s a miracle worthy of a visit to Mickey’s castle who I have been told rents it out to Cinderella who was evicted by the evil stepmother from her itty bitty apartment above the mansion for not properly cleaning the floors. Mickey is clearly a generous guy.