November 2, 2015

In Which I Become That Parent

In general I am a low key type of parent. For those of you who are my Facebook friend, you will know that my kiddo is filthy dirty more often than clean and his favorite activity is digging with his dump trucks and digger toys. He plays in creeks, swims in rivers and has probably eaten his fair share of horse poop along the way. It will make him stronger as an adult, right?

I don't plan on having him enrolled in 57 different sports and activities and while I am not a "trophy for everyone" type of person, I also could care less if he wins the toddler Olympics. As long as he is having fun, I'm cool with last place.

Except on Halloween when I apparently dressed up as THAT PARENT.

It goes a looong way back. When I was of Trick or Treating age, my dad and I would go out together. I never had friends with me. Probably because I was obnoxious and nobody wanted to join my special type of insanity. I dressed as a witch every single year and carried a pillow case for my loot. My dad would come along and carry a spare pillow case. I would literally sprint from house to house, breathless in my pursuit of turning the whole celebration into a contest of beating my previous year's record of houses.

I was polite, would say thank you, never cut through flower beds and never bowled any kids over, but I was determined to hit as many houses as possible in the skimpy 2 hour window the area allowed. It was epic. And probably a little sad.

The last two Halloweens, Wyatt was too young to get the point and we just hit up our neighbors houses to show off his cute costume and called it a night with two or three pieces of candy he never ate anyway.

Not this year.

This year he is nearly 3 and we went out with his cousins and hit up their large neighborhood. I was chomping a the bit. I was foaming at the mouth.

I was embarrassing my husband and annoying my child.

I would urge him on with a "go, go go! you gotta get up to that door quickly!" When he took what seemed like an hour but was really only a minute or two to make his candy selection, I groaned inside thinking of the lost time. The missed houses.

When we selected a route that was devoid of many lights only to hit a house or two, my soul died at the thought of all those missed houses down the side street we avoided. AAAHH!!

Dusty wondered where Wyatt's low key mom had gone.


  1. Hahahahaaha. Channeling your inner child. Next year, dress up and trick or treat with him.

    1. I may be forced to stay home and hand out candy next year ;)