When my son’s mother first told me what she wanted our son’s Halloween costume to be I gave her a smile, and an immediate yes. It wasn’t a flesh-eating zombie. It wasn’t a Bangor inspired Paul Bunyan. It wasn’t a present day pop-icon. It wasn’t a giant squid (that would have been cool). She wanted to dress our son up as a Care Bear.
A pirate, a superhero, a shark, a puppy, hell even a pumpkin would be acceptable costumes for baby’s first Halloween. So why then did I say an emphatic yes to my son being dressed up as Care Bear? Was it because I have a love for the 80’s? No. Is it because I couldn’t resist the blue fuzzy ears and the heart on the butt? Nope. It’s because some day, a long time from now, after years of bending to my child’s every need and desire, I’m going to want to embarrass him.
That’s right. I said it. I’m going to want to extract a little parent revenge and embarrass the hell out of him. Maybe I’ll show these photos to his prom date. Maybe I’ll give them to the school for use in his yearbook. Maybe I’ll have it printed on top of a cake and deliverer it to his football practice. Who knows.
What I do know is that I now have some ammo for future use. I’ll be filing this gem away along with the naked tub photos and hopefully one of him picking his nose.
Love ya son, and remember, don’t mess with dad. Also don’t ask grandma for any photos of me. Hopefully she’s burned those per my request.