My dad and stepmom took a trip out west last summer. Upon their return, they brought with them a cowboy hat and Yellowstone National Park “sheriff’s” star for JR.
“Perfect!” I thought. “He can be a cowboy for Halloween. Done and done.”
And then I didn’t think about it for four months because, hey! I already had it figured out.
As it got closer to Halloween, we tried to introduce JR to the concept of dressing up as a cowboy. We would casually suggest that he wear the hat. Gently encourage him to belt out a “Yee-haw!” Give him ever-so-delicate guidance to try on a bandanna.
No dice. He wanted NOTHING to do with them.
Our friend Sarah offered up her daughter’s frog costume from a couple years ago. It’s basically a pair of pajamas with a hood that happens to feature eyeballs. I thought surely he would go for it.
Well. When I attempted to get JR to try it on the day before Halloween, he had a total meltdown, complete with flopping himself on the floor, gasping “No!” through tears.
I put on the brakes at that point.
He’s not even two. He won’t remember this at all. He needs to look at Halloween as a fun evening to be spent with his friends and family, not a time that his parents force him to put on weird clothes for their amusement.
So, I found a red T-shirt and painted some black stripes on it, stuck him in a pair of black pants, handed him his blue blanket, and boom! We had a very happy Linus:
Here he is with his friend (and godbrother, if that’s a thing) Jack, who happens to be sporting the lion costume that JR happily wore last year — back before he had opinions on things.