In the near future I will be able to go door to door collecting free candy under the guise that it’s for my child. I’d go this year, but Baby Bop doesn’t have any teeth yet.
I’m the proud mother of a baby dinosaur. I’m Mommysaurus and Captain is moonlighting as Daddysaurus. The good news is that all of our costumes should fit us next year. Which means Baby Bop’s costume is huge and Mommy and Daddy are hoping to stay the same size-ish.
And by costume I mean I wore a t-shirt and jeans. I tell you this because there are many sexy dinosaur costumes and my days of wearing sexy costumes in public are behind me. Even if this is the one year I need fast access to my boobs.
The other day I was in a room with a chicken, a lobster, a flower, Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, a member of Run DMC, a strawberry, a lion and two pumpkins. All under the age of one. Captain looks around at the guardians of this cast of characters and says,
“Five years ago I wonder if any of these people thought this is where they’d be today.”
Five years ago I was bartending, dating like my blog depended on it and sleeping until 11am. Even now when I look at all the people with their babies I still find it hard to believe that I’m one of these people. Although at 3am it’s a little less hard to believe.
How did we end up being a dinosaur family? The internet vortex of adorable baby costumes could’ve sucked me in and never spit me out, but I asked Captain, who usually doesn’t have strong apparel opinions,
“Do you care what we dress Baby Bop up as?”
“Yeah, something with a tail.”