History is currently in the making. As I write this entry, the nation anxiously awaits the announcement of our new president. I LOVE that boundaries are being crossed on both sides. Either we will have a black president or a woman vice president. How awesome is that? Despite the speculation of long lines in dreary weather, voting proved nearly effortless this morning. With more than 1,600 polling precincts available in San Diego, we jotted to the nearest one -- and back home -- in less than 24 minutes (yes, I timed it). That has to be a record somewhere, no? Back in normal-folks land (the Taylor household), Halloween proved uneventful yet again this year. I suppose in many ways this is good (no egging of our car, etc.) but in other ways I thought it would be a bit different with a kiddo. A bit more fun, perhaps. My friend Bradford kindly loaned me her son's costume from last year -- the fluffy chicken pictured. To really capture the essence of the chicken, adorning the hoodie is a must. Try explaining that to a toddler. Beckham was adamant about shedding the head piece, and clearly would have preferred to be costume-free entirely. We decided a few photos would be taken of the chicken child in the grass, but even this small task proved impossible. Anytime we lowered him to the ground tantrums and tears erupted from our feathery offspring. Doesn't he know by now that chickens don't cry? As we walked home from our friend's house, chicken in tow, we passed a large Hispanic family on the sidewalk and were greeted with much appreciative laughter and incomprehensible comments about our little "el pollo loco."
No comments:
Post a Comment