I got home from work yesterday.
Tyler came up to me and said "Hi, Daddy. I'm going to be a cowboy today because it's Halloween."
I felt shocked because Halloween had really snuck up on me this year. Who knew that it could come up on July 13? I think it was the 90+ degree heat that I had just driven home in that threw me off. The weather is usually pretty cold around Halloween in Denver.
My little boy continued: "And you're Daddy Cowboy and Mommy is Mommy Cowboy and Connor is baby Cowboy."
Unfortunately, I don't own a cowboy hat, so being Daddy Cowboy might be a little hard, but I started to answer "Sweet, Tyler...."
He interrupted "No... my name is 'Cowboy'."
"Oh, ok ... Sweet, Cowboy, where is your hat?"
He ran off to get his cowboy hat before I could add that I did not know where my hat was either. 3 year olds don't walk to get their hats; they run. Or at least when they want to get their hats, they run.
While he was doing that, I climbed into the kitchen and went over to kiss my wife, saying "Hello, Mommy Cowboy."
My fast little boy was already back with his hat and said "No! That's not Mommy Cowboy! That's the Horse. And you're the Cow; And Connor is the Pig." Things change fast in my household.
Living with a 3-year-old has prepared me for such quick life-changing events, so my wife being a horse and my youngest son being a pig did not even phase me. I didn't really want to be a cow, but I've been worse. Besides, chances were pretty strong that I would improve my situation sometime before the day was over.
I leaned down to Connor ("Pig") who was in his pig bouncy chair. If you did not know that pigs could fit in bouncy chairs, you've probably never had a 3 year old and a baby at the same time. Or at least you've never had two boys like mine. "Hello Pig," I said. "Did you have a nice day?"
Pig answered "Grunt grunt grunt". I have such a smart little boy. He is only 3 months old and yet, he didn't lose a beat to play the part his brother had just bestowed upon him only seconds before.
"Daddy," said the little Cowboy, "go upstairs and take off your shoes and change your clothes." That sounded like a good idea to me, so I did that.
Tyler came upstairs with me and I asked if he wanted to go potty on his Cowboy Potty.
"Yes," he said, "because .. because ... Cowboys go PeePee on Cowboy Potties."
He went PeePee on his Cowboy Potty. I changed my clothes, and we both went back downstairs. Apparently, Cowboys are unable to walk down the last 3 steps, because he had to jump them. Cowboys like to jump... they are sort of like Tiggers in that way. He landed, and rolled, looking like a professional stunt man (a stunt man playing a Cowboy). His hat fell off, and he told me "My hat fell off, you silly horse."
I knew my situation would probably improve. I had been promoted to horse. Hurray!
"I'm a horse now?"
"Then I'm going to kiss the Mommy Horse."
"No no no!! She's not a horse, she's a Cow." Poor Mommy had been demoted... oh well ... better her than me. I kissed her anyway. I'm not sure if horses and cows should kiss, but Cowboy didn't seem to mind too much, and he is the expert.
For the rest of the day, Cowboy rode Horse; we all had Cowboy dinner; we played Cowboy trains; we read Cowboy books; the Cow fed the Pig; we went Cowboy potty; we changed into Cowboy jammies; we brushed Cowboy teeth; drank from Sider Man cup(we don't have a Cowboy cup... that was almost a disaster); and did just about every other Cowboy activity you could ever imagine. For the most part, I remained Horse; Mommy remained Cow; and Connor remained Pig.
When it was time for Cowboy bed, I asked Cowboy if he wanted a Cowboy kiss.
"I'm not Cowboy," he told me, "I'm Tyler."
Things change fast in my house.