This Halloween, we trick or treated with The Banshees. They were both dressed up as Little Red Riding Hood, although Baby Banshee’s costume — with a cape she refused to wear — made her look, uhm, more like a chubby beer wench at Oktoberfest than Little Red Riding Hood. A smushable chubby beer wench, but a beer wench nonetheless.
As they were getting ready for bed, after all the sugar and excitement, my brother did their little nightly ritual with them. “What was your favorite part of the day? Of the night? What are you thankful for?”
So it was Baby Banshee’s turn. She’ll be two in December. Her dad turned to her and asked, “Baby B, what was your favorite part of the day?”
She pulled the “passy” out of her mouth and whispered, “Horrrrsies.”
“Horsies?” I said.
“Horsies,” my brother said.
“Oh.”
“She says that every night.”
“Hahahaha.”
“Yeah. Her life does not involve horsies in any way, shape, or form, but every single night, the answer is ‘horsies.'”
She looked at both of us, pulled that pacifier out, and whispered — with a little smile this time, “Horrrsies.”
So horsies are the key to happiness.
It’s good I learned this before it’s too late.
Horsies! I just overdosed on “awwwwwwwwwww.” So so precious!
They must be Clydesdales if she’s a chubby beer wench. Seriously, there is something hilariously endearing about little kids’ faves. Baby Banshee’s got her horrsies, and my nephew has his garbage trucks. And we onlookers have no idea what about these things has captivated them so!
NF — I know! It was very “awwwwwwwww.”
Kate — Your nephew likes garbage trucks specifically? That’s so cute.
Our nephews love garbage trucks too! My son got one of his cousin’s names for the cousin’s Christmas exchange. Everything on there as his favorite revolves around a garbage truck or recycling truck.
I think horsies are better.
Kate – you just reminded me of a family story…
The year our father died, I helped my brother build his Pinewood Derby car for Cub Scouts. He wanted to make something that nobody else would have, to carry on the family tradition of cars that ran like crap but looked cool. Unfortunately it was beyond my ability to make anything cool-looking. Finally my brother just said, “If it’s gonna be square anyway, why don’t we just make a dump truck?”
We couldn’t hinge the back door so his dump truck became an open-top garbage hauler, complete with miniature black trash bags we fashioned from squares of a lawn disposal bag, stuffed with the ends of q-tips and melted shut. He won a trophy for “Most Original Concept.” He still has the car at home on his desk, though I think the bags are long gone.
Baby B is one smart cookie; I still think horsies are the key to happiness. Well, one of the keys anyway.
Tracey–yes, he is obsessed with garbage trucks. My mom found a toy garbage truck at the warehouse club last Christmas, and it was as if everyone and everything else ceased to exist once he had it in his hands. When my niece (age 5) was tossing around ideas for Halloween costumes, she told my SIL she wanted to do the Nativity: “I’ll be Mary, (Older Nephew) will be Joseph, (Youngest Nephew) will be Baby Jesus, and (Middle Nephew) will be the garbage truck.”
She KNEW it would be a non-negotiable with him!
‘Fly, that is a fantastic story. I love that your brother still has the truck!
“Middle Nephew will be the garbage truck.” HAHAHAHAHAHA! Excellent.
‘Fly, you really are one of the best people I know.
Tracer – horsies is great. My middle child was (well, is) obsessed with clothes. I mean, couldn’t even speak and if we took her into a store she would lean over to clothes. Cry if we didn’t let her near them or left a store too early. Kids ‘r wacky.
Kate P– Hahahahahahaha!