Thursday, October 29, 2009
For Bob’s second Halloween, we suited up our poor defenseless son in a spectacular cowboy costume. (Chaps and vest lovingly made by Aunt Jen.) This ensemble was conceived around one glorious centerpiece: a pair of size 6, Children's Old West® Round Toe Western Cowboy Boots, a present from our cousins in Texas.
Although the boots were technically Bob’s size, when I tried to get them on him the week before Halloween, his tiny sausage feet were getting stuck half way down the leg of the boot. I decided that a boot horn was the answer. After tours of the local shoe repair shop, Target, Rite-Aid, Walgreen’s, and CVS, I was finally able to locate an overpriced, electric green boot horn. I was then able to jam Bob’s foot three quarters of the way into the boot where it would stick, suctioned in by the useless hunk of neon plastic.
No matter how much I told (pleaded with) Bob about how fun this activity was, he did not appear to enjoy any of it.
Desperate, I wrapped his little feet in sandwich bags and coated the outside of the bags in Vaseline. His little plastic wrapped piggies slid right in. I can feel you judging me from here and I don’t blame you. (Really he only had on the slime boots for 15 minutes, 20 at the most, Your Honor.)
He was a sweet little cowpoke. Of course, once he had on the jeans and chaps, you couldn’t really see the boots anyway. The bonus was that the gooey-baggie rig caused him to walk a little funny, he moseyed just like a cowboy.
Trick or treat.
Labels: The Bob