a belated halloween story
we opted out of halloween this year. the kid is 17.3 months old and frankly doesn't know a pumpkin from a steam train. AND add to this the fact that she screams bloody murder any time we try to put pants on her. you're going to tell me i should spring for a costume she'll tolerate wearing for all of .0004 seconds? not. (although the entire week before halloween every time she saw a particularly garishly decorated home, all green-spiderweb and hockey-masked-scarecrow, she would point and go OOOH!).
the nanny came on halloween morning. the baby was in her pyjamas and could stay that way for all we cared: wife and i had an appointment with our lawyer at the end of the day to sign the contract on our apartment, which WE SOLD WITH A QUICKNESS (god bless park slope). so we told the nanny to meet us at the lawyer's office (conveniently on "court" street, how quaint), and to bring the kid. at 6 pm i show up at the lawyer's. so does mrs nice guy. just steps behind her is the nanny, who has our child ... in the cutest fucking unicorn onesie EVER IN THE WORLD HISTORY OF CUTENESS. (jesus, enough with the caps.) our child was all in white, with a purple horn and a purple tail and purple glittershoes. how cute was she? my heart exploded in my chest, cracking my rib cage and unspooling my intestines onto the floor in true halloween fashion.
then, slowly, it dawned on me: i knew that mrs nice guy did not purchase this costume. i know for damn sure that i didn't. i asked the nanny -- "did you buy her this?" she, sheepishly, said "no. my mother did."
and so it's official. we are such bad parents that our nanny's mom feels the need to intervene. we're such total deadbeats that our NANNY'S MOM feels the need to step in and do it right. i can't possibly imagine what was going through nanny's mom's brain, but it was probably something along the lines of "fucking losers." she thinks we're spite-filled, black-hearted, halloween-grinches. i bet she called child protective services. ok, maybe she didn't. but she sure as shit laid some serious guilt on us from afar for being too caught up in our multi-squijillion dollar real estate wranglings to spare a thought for our poor child.
(update on the mp3 situation ... will hopefully have something straightened out for you shortly. meantime be brave, little ones.)