Thing 2 discovered his one-size-too-small Spider-Man costume in the back of his closet last Friday.
He hasn’t taken it off since then.
He wore it to Walmart. I figured that this was okay, because Walmart is famous for sightings of people in their pajamas and other Outfits of Nonsense.
He wore it to church on Sunday. Hubs tried to protest, claiming that Spider-Man costumes are PERHAPS inappropriate for the house of the Lord, but I insisted that Jesus doesn’t really care what anyone wears to church; He just cares that folks show up. I told Hubs that he could die on that mountain if he wanted to, fighting the battle to abolish costumes in church with a strong-willed four-year-old who was DETERMINED to wear it, but I was going to choose to plant my feet in the ground for an engagement of bloodshed on something more important.
Like how we DO NOT shoot Nerf gun darts at our cats.
As it turned out, our dear friend Sierra saw Thing 2 walking into church on Sunday morning, and she stopped to compliment him on his wardrobe choice. Sierra is in the thick of raising three boys, who are now teenagers and college-aged, and she told Hubs, “I’m going to put all my chips on Thing 2 being completely overwhelmed with the attention he’s going to get when he walks inside, and I bet he takes it off.”
Hubs wasn’t so sure.
I feel like Sierra is a goldmine of solid Mothering Truth, so I chose to believe my friend.
We walked into the building, and IMMEDIATELY folks greeted Thing 2 and made twenty-seven thousand comments on his outfit before he’d even walked twenty feet down the hallway. When we reached the door to his Sunday School classroom, our boy sat down on the floor, kicked his cowboy boots off, and started yanking that Spider-Man costume off, too. I asked him what he was doing, and he said, “I hate everyone talking about me! I want this thing OFF NOW!”
SIERRA, FOR THE WIN.
He put it back on as soon as we were home.
Thing 2 won’t wear the costume to preschool, because he told me, “I know the kids will call me Spider-Man, and I don’t want anyone to KNOW I’m Spider-Man.”
It’s exactly the type of privacy a superhero demands, as no civilians EVER know their true identities.
The costume is a size 3/4, while Thing 2’s NFL-worthy biceps and thighs really need a size 5 now, and he INSISTS on pairing the red and blue ensemble with his blue, light-up cowboy boots.
And… as I sit here typing…
Thing 2 Spider-Man just ran by me and yelled, “Hey, Mom? Can you maybe buy me some rocket boosters? REAL superheroes can fly, so I’m gonna need something with fire!”
Which is THE EXACT REASON why I said in last night’s blog post that Calvin’s mama and I could be best friends.
Happy Tuesday, y’all.