The days leading up to Halloween are a crescendo of excitement with young children in the house. As witness, I offer the following, overheard three mornings before the costumed, candy-filled parade. The boy is talking to his sister (who doesn’t yet reply):
If we don’t get any sleep, we can’t go trick or treating, so we have to go to sleep.
All this at 7am, when both kids would normally be awake anyway. Everyone was out of bed and going the usual (high) speed within ten minutes, when the boy realized the girl wasn’t listening to his entreaties to go back to sleep.
For the big event, the boy dressed as Batman. I decided to be Robin, the (much bigger than Batman) Boy Wonder. I enjoyed assembling the costume from odds and ends grabbed at Mervyn’s on Sunday afternoon, and I think it went well.
Prior to the morning warning, the boy had asked his mother what she was going to be for Halloween. She told him she was going to be a mommy. The boy replied:
I don’t want you to be a mommy. I want you to be something cooler.
I don’t think that falls under the category of well-expressed gratitude for years of making one’s wishes subservient to one’s children’s. But it was funny.