The Meaning of Life -- In a Candy Bar

For Halloween, Johnny went as Winnie the Pooh. Belle went as Princess Belle.

As they trick-or-treated, older kids dressed in ghastly costumes approached. A big bully in a skeleton outfit approached little Johnny and roared in his face. Johnny didn't cry, didn't even say "Oh, bother." After the skeleton left, he sadly said, "Daddy, I don't like skeletons at Halloween. But I LOVE candy."

Leave it to Johnny to find the meaning of life while trick-or-treating.

Belle also became ensnared by an unexpected skeleton.
Poor Belle. At least that house gave out big candy bars and margaritas to the adults.

Johnny didn't let the creeps get him down.

A Frightful Night

As previously reported on this blog, my two-year-old son, Johnny, was mortally afraid of his Winnie the Pooh costume. On Halloween, we did get him to try it on:

But he wasn't too happy about it:

So it was time for Plan B. Johnny, like his daddy, LOVES the Green Bay Packers, especially Quarterback Aaron Rodgers, so he happily went as the future Hall of Famer:

This is further proof that all good Packer fans pooh-pooh the bears.

Above: I dressed up as Captain Jack Sparrow while Belle went as TinkerBelle and Johnny as Green Bay Packer Aaron Rodgers.

Minnie-mizing the Pain

All parents know that bedtime doesn't really happen like it's portrayed on TV -- moms and dads laying down their half-asleep progeny then serenely gliding to the door for one more glance at their sleeping cherubs. No, bedtime is usually riddled with "I'm not tired" and "I don't WANT to go to bed!"

My kids take it a step further. For example, to avoid going right to sleep, my three-year-old Belle asks, "Can I talk to my sleeping friends?" It's her own virtual slumber party with her stuffed animals like Minnie Mouse.

I say "Yes, you may have a slumber party with Minnie as long as you don't wake your brother," Johnny, who's two. Some nights I've seen Belle looking out the window and waving to neighbors who pass by the house. I've asked her not to do that, so she has been getting more savvy with her questions.

She takes a deep breath and asks, "Daddy, can I talk to my sleeping friends for five minutes quietly while laying down and not looking out the window?"

"Yes," I say.

One day last summer, my wife and I put the kids to bed and then I go outside to mow the lawn. Belle looks out the window to watch me while she's supposed to be sleeping.

I spot her.

She ducks. Her eyes peek up over the windowpane and I signal her to lay down and go to sleep.

A few seconds later, I see Minnie Mouse's ears and eyes peek up over the window pane.


Minnie watches the rest of the time I'm mowing, until I walk over to the window and say, "Minnie, go to sleep."

Cheesy Tactics
The next morning, Belle says, "Can I have a cheesy omelet?"

"We're out of eggs," I say. "But you can have some of my breakfast."

"What are you eating?" Belle says.

"Oatmeal."

Belle says, "Would you like some cheesy omelet?"

Juggling Johnny
Later that day, we go grocery shopping. The next morning, Johnny decides to take up juggling. His first practice items? The new eggs from the fridge.

"No, Johnny!" I exclaim.

Belle consoles me. "Daddy, I still love you all the time. And we're going to be friends forever. Because we're not strangers."

We clean up the eggs. Now if I can only get Johnny to try on his new Winnie the Pooh costume. It's warm, fuzzy and cute.

But he's mortally afraid of it. When he sees it, he sticks his head under the coach.

Looks like this Halloween the trick will be on me.

My Kids are Almost Adults -- Or Something

My son Johnny just had a birthday and I asked his big sister, Belle, how old he is now.

"Two-and-a-half," she declared.

"Close, he's two," I said.

"Right, two," Belle. "And do you know who's going to have a birthday in October?"

"Who?" I said.

"Me! I'm going to be four! I'm going to be an adult, or something."

She may not be an adult, but she sings and plays the "Dora the Explorer" theme song on the piano pretty well for a three-year-old:

Once, while playing piano, she got so excited she fell right off the bench.

Johnny gets pretty excited when I get home from work. He basically does a Big-Ten-Marching-Band high step. I call it the Johnny Happy Dance:



Belle, like many kids, gets her share of bumps and bruises. So I bought her one of those new Winnie the Pooh ice packs. It's genius: Soft, non-toxic, supposedly resists freezer burn. I saw it as a key part of our first aid. Belle, of course, saw it as a key part of her toy chest. She kept making up "owies" to try to get it from the freezer.

When her mommy said, "You have to have a legitimate owie to get the Winnie the Pooh ice pack," Belle immediately ran head-first into the wall to get it.

A few minutes later, she passed gas. "Daddy, sometimes when people toot, it feels REALLY good."