Because Pottery Barn is an asshole and I cannot possibly resist their tempting overpriced wares, every time they come out with their Halloween Issue, I tear into it like it’s a brand new issue of Maxim magazine. Eagerly, I examine the overpriced costumes and figure out which ones my kids MIGHT allow me to dress their very particular bodies in before the inevitable day when they say, “Mom, I want to be a ghost” and beg for a simple sheet.
This year, I managed to grab the magazine as I was headed out with Alex, who was highly INTERESTED in what I was looking at.
I’ve been TRYING to get one of my children to be the Land Shark for years, and no, every year they deny me. Which means that I need a costume party to be the Land Shark and be all ‘CANDYGRAM’ and then no one will laugh but me, but I will laugh enough for everyone else.
Well, anyway, I’m in the car with Alex and I’m all, “you could be popcorn! or rootbeer! or a carton of milk!”
And Alex, my miniature clone, said, simply, emphatically, with his mind made up, “No.”
Perhaps he is paying me back for these costumes.
The Hedgehog of DOOOOOOM.
Because he said, “I’m going to be a beautiful butterfly. But be careful, Mom, don’t step on my wings!”
The butterfly costume is this, Pranksters:
Pottery Barn, you win again. My son will be the most beautiful, manly butterfly in a dress, ever.
And I will never, ever stop hearing the end of it from his father, grandfather, my brother and every other male he comes into contact with. But I don’t fucking care. If my kid wants to be a beautiful butterfly, he can be a beautiful fracking butterfly.
I just might buy him some wee combat boots to go along with it. And maybe a spike collar. He will be the most beautiful butterfly on the block.
And I will punch anyone who looks at him funny. Because it’s a MANLY TUTU and he’s just a little boy who likes butterflies and flowers and light and for GOD’S SAKE his first word was PENIS and he can throw a ball better than most 20-year old’s I know, and really, Alex is composed primarily of sweetness and light and snips and snails and puppy dog tails and I have never met anyone more wholly good than him.
So yes. A butterfly. My son, Mister Butterfly. Spike The Butterfly.
Sounds kinda manly.