Over the weekend, the Pseudonymous Family threw The Party of the Century, a shindig commemorating both my wife’s 30th birthday and Halloween (conveniently, her favorite holiday). Throngs of friends and family shindug with us sporting costumes ranging from Mighty Morphin Power Rangers to William Wallace to Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head.
For their first-ever Halloween costumes, our beloved Twinfants donned feathery blue wigs and red jumpsuits, appropriately labeled “Thing 1” and “Thing 2,” while my wife and I rounded out the Dr. Seuss theme as twin Cats in the Hat(s?).
The Best Kid Costume title in our illustrious costume contest went to our friends’ two-and-a-half year old daughter, who dressed as a pink pirate. When I found her darting between witches and Freddy Kruegers on the back patio, I offered her my congratulations. She was playing with the Twins’ roughly-six-inch-tall stuffed Big Bird.
“I have a bird!” she proclaimed.
“You do. Do you know who that is?”
“It’s a bird.”
“That’s right. It’s Big Bird.”
“No, this is a yittle bird.”
“Right. He’s a little bird, but his name is Big Bird. From Sesame Street, right?”
She squinted at me, then Little Big Bird, then back at me, and firmly resolved, “No.”
Before I could counter, she ran off, into the house.
Apparently, the conversation was over.
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If not, did you at least like them a yittle bit?
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