We bought Halloween costumes for the boys. Connor (2) will be Buzz Lightyear and Zeke (6) will be the lanky Sheriff Woody. We were talking about how we wished we could find a tiny Jessie costume for Amelia (7months). Then I said, “Well, I could just be Jessie.”
Zeke, without missing a beat, said, “No, you are Mrs. Potato Head.”
Oh sure. The rotund, nagging toy instead of the trim toy with spunk. The one who manages to lose her own eye but remembers to pack for every possible scenario for her husband. That doesn’t sound like me at all.
The firefighter tried to smooth it over saying that it was probably just because there is a Mrs. and a Mr. Potato Head and that Zeke was just divvying out roles in close accordance with our actual roles. He told me that Zeke would probably have chosen him to be Mr. Potato Head. But he didn’t. Zeke (the child who is no longer in the running for favorite) said, “Yeah, and daddy should be Bullseye.”
Bullseye is a horse.
He is not married to Mrs. Potato Head.
Of course, the firefighter tried to fight it, but I could see a little puff of pride as he thought about the role he had been given. And I don’t blame him, at the end of the second movie Bullseye carries Buzz Lightyear, Woody and Jessie to safety all at once. He is a sweet, loyal hero.
My mind starts to wander as I try to figure out what has caused this child to make me the least enviable character. Perhaps I waited too long to give up cupcakes, thus he sees me as round. Maybe he has watched me constantly rubbing my eyes from allergies and sleep deprivation and feels I need a new pair. Could be he sees my ears with earrings or without and thinks I have two different pairs of ears. Maybe he has noticed that some days are better than others with the nerve damage in my arm and ankle and thinks I have been swapping them out.
Nah. I know that’s not it, because nuances are lost on him. Recently a bunch of my friends were showing some of the clever, precious things they were making with their children’s lunches. Pictures of circuses and animals made with food all over Facebook and Pinterest. So, one day I made a cute clown face out of Zeke’s lunch. I called him in for lunch and I went to get my camera. By the time I got back he had eaten an eye, half of the mouth, and a little of the clown’s hair. I was a little bummed that I hadn’t gotten evidence that I had attempted something cute, but I asked Zeke if he liked the clown I made him. He looked up and around and said, “Where?” When I pointed it out on his plate he looked at it for a few minutes and said, “I don’t think so. Because see? It doesn’t have any ears…or arms…or a body…and is that supposed to be the nose?”
Maybe I need a little more adult interaction.