Halloween has always been very special for me. Ella and I moved into our first home on Halloween. We spent the evening eagerly awaiting trick-or-treaters, but since ours was only the third house built at that point in our subdivision, we only had two spirits visit all evening. A year later, I proposed to her on Halloween. And since I brought it up, here are the gory details:
I bought a trick-or-treat bucket, filled it with candy, and buried the ring box deep inside. I then went over to my neighbor's house and asked if he would bring his two-year-old daughter over with the bucket of candy and give it to Ella and I under the guise of "She got too much candy today. You guys have some." He did and when they left, Ella immediately went through the bucket, inventorying the booty, until she found the ring. The rest is history.
Foolish girl. She should've opted for the candy instead.
This will be Zoey's fourth Halloween. For the first two, Ella and I took turns selecting Zoey's costume. For Zoey's first Halloween, Ella chose a ladybug costume, as Ella has always had a thing for ladybugs (no, I don't even begin to comprehend the attraction). For Zoey's second Halloween, I chose a cow costume. There was no longstanding emotional baggage concerning cows; it was simply a cute costume.
Last year, Zoey was twenty-six months old, so she was able to pick out her own costume. And what did Daddy's little girl chose? A princess? Nope. A ballerina? Not even close.
A gorilla.
I wasn't surprised. Since day one, my daughter's always had a punk rock mentality. She's going to do things her way, when she wants to do them. She's not going to do something just because all her little friends are doing it. So at her preschool's Halloween Parade, amidst all the little Minnie Mice, fairies, Disney princesses, Doras, ballerinas, and kitty cats, stood one lone gorilla with a pink bow in her hair (Ella's feeble attempt to feminize the costume and to keep people from thinking she was a boy). I love Zoey!
But over the past year, Zoey has become more and more enamored with sugar, spice, everything nice, bows, ribbons, and all that girlie stuff. She's still got her tough tomboy exterior, but her softer side shines through more and more. Which is why I like to call her my Punk Rock Princess. She loves the name as well.
Yeah, I'm a big dork, especially when it comes to the kids. But you knew that already, didn't you?
Last week, Zoey told us she wanted to be Stephanie from LazyTown. For some insanely naive reason, Ella and I both thought Ella would have to make this costume for Zoey. Let's see, it's a show that's on daily on Nickelodeon and Noggin (and CBS on Saturdays) and it's been out for over a year. Yeah, there's no way Viacom would try to capitalize on their product. I looked on Ebay the next day to see if anyone was making their own Stephanie costumes and that's when I found official costumes were for sale all over the place.
Sometimes I really need to crawl out from under this rock and take a look around.
But the next day, Zoey decided she wanted to be a princess instead. Despite the fact that she has six or seven princess gowns, various tiaras, and several pairs of formal shoes, we were prepared to shell out the bucks for a brand new outfit. Hey, it's Halloween!
That is until yesterday morning, when she decided she wanted to be Stephanie again. I told Ella, "You're taking that child to the store tonight and letting her pick out her costume."
So when they came home from the costume store, I asked Ella, "Did she pick the Stephanie costume?"
"Nope," she replied.
"So what kind of princess did she chose?"
"She's not a princess, either."
"So what is it?"
"It's a surprise. Hang on and I'll put it on her. You're not going to like it."
"I'm sure I'll love whatever my lovely daughter chose to be on Halloween."
"Whatever. You're going to be eating those words in a few minutes."
After ten minutes (and a lot of giggling from the kitchen), my daughter walked into the room.
Dressed. As. A. Cheerleader.
Ella was right!
It would've been nice if Ella had warned me. Maybe then poor Zoey wouldn't have been met with a look of sheer terror from her Dad as she proudly pranced around in her cheerleading outfit. Were they trying to kill me? What happened? Weren't there any Catholic schoolgirl uniforms available? Did they miss the French maid section?
I know. I'm overreacting. I know she's only three and everyone will just think she's cute (although I know all the neighborhood fathers will be giving me major crap when they see her). But I also know firsthand what kind of response cheerleader outfits elicit in the loins of a young male. In the immortal words of beloved poet laureate Bret Michaels, "Where's the girl I knew a year ago?"
All kidding aside, I have no problem with her becoming a cheerleader when she's a teenager. Just as long as she's attending this little Amish prep school I have picked out for her in south central Pennsylvania.
GHS: 4 (10 every time she wears a cheerleading uniform when she's 13+ (if I still have any non-gray hair (or any hair period (or if I'm still alive))))
My Daughter Wants Her Daddy Dead
