Scrappy The Chicken

Perhaps it goes without writing, but we are not exactly organized around here despite my best intentions.  The kids' closet is filled with small storage containers (labeled by size!) of their old or out-of-season clothing.  Nevertheless, there is a growing pile of clothes on the closet floor waiting for someone to put them in properly labeled storage container homes.  And still they wait.  .

Yesterday morning (Halloween) was like most mornings except that Bug and Squish would be wearing costumes for the day. 


Bug's was easy.  My husband brilliantly ordered it online at some point while I was scrambling around getting ready to go to Houston for work last week.

Bug loves a certain superhero who climbs walls and shoots webs.  When Bug and I opened the package with his superhero costume (complete with tiny, puffy muscles), he was over the moon.  He put it on immediately (and wore it for the next thirteen hours).

Then, it was time to get Squish's costume together.  Squish was inheriting Bug's costume from two years ago: a baby chick - a cute, cuddly, bright yellow body suit with a chicken-head-cap (complete with beak) and two little chicken-foot-booties. 

Perhaps a thinking woman would have looked for the costume at least the night before she knew she would be sending her child off to a Halloween parade at his daycare/school.  Perhaps it goes without writing, but I am not always a thinking woman.  I am usually an exhausted woman.

So, at 8 am, I opened the door to my children's closet and began the search for the adorable baby chick costume. 

At 8:01 am, I found it (with a dry cleaner's tag on it, no less!) - one fluffy, bright yellow body suit.

Then I started to look for the chicken-head-cap (complete with beak).  This search was much less successful. 

I decided to switch gears and look for the chicken-foot-booties.

I could not find them in the closet.  Not on the closet floor near where the bodysuit had been hanging, not in the piles of clothes waiting for storage containers, not on the closet floor anywhere.

I pulled down a bag of shoes that Bug had outgrown, in case I had ever been a thinking woman and put chicken-foot-booties in with their fellow footwear.  No on both counts.

I left the closet and decided to try a big bin of stuffed animals.

Bam.

One chicken-foot-bootie.

But just one...

Not a problem.  This happens to chickens all the time, right?  Aren't we always seeing chickens with only one foot?  (to the extent we are "always seeing chickens," of course)


I decided to accept the reality of the state of Squish's costume, and I continued with our morning.

We were almost ready to leave when I looked back and wondered if there might be a chicken-head-cap (complete with beak) and one lonely chicken-foot-bootie hiding in one of the small storage containers filled with baby and toddler clothes.  I went in and opened each one, spilling the clothes onto the floor, hoping a bright yellow chicken-head-cap or a bright orange chicken-foot-bootie would reveal itself. 

Squish deserved a whole costume.  Not most of what we gave his brother.  All of it.  

Five minutes later, the room was covered in clothes and stuffed animals and empty storage containers, but there was only one chicken-foot-bootie and no chicken-head-cap (complete with beak).

I decided to get Squish his own costume in the future, but this year, he would have to be Scrappy The Chicken.