at the end of august,a complex idea was conceived. the monkey stated his halloween intentions in great detail, and a committee (comprised myself and the monkey) was formed to carry out the tasks at hand. feather boa… check. tie dyed union suit… check. homemade mask… check. facepaint… check. the result was one very happy “rainbow kitty cat,” and two parents who fell asleep last night knowing that we did the right thing by letting the monkey be the monkey.

we did, however, impose our own halloween ideations on the bird, who rocked the neighborhood as elvis (the rock star, not the webkinz mountain goat).

next year, the boys probably won’t even need costumes. they’ll just smile and reveal their rotted out teeth — a consequense of this halloween’s tootsie rolls and smarties. perhaps i should dress as a wicked dental hygienist. time to form a committee.

the end of august is a perfectly normal time to start discussing halloween costumes in our house. and by “discussing,” i am actually referring to a complex, multi-step process wherein i decide what my children’s costumes are going to be (i am, after all, the decider), and slowly introduce my conclusions in sneaky and subtle ways until the other members of my family are reveling in their own flashes of costume insight (which were, of course, my own flashes of costume insight in the first place).

this system has worked beautifully in the past. every october for four years, i have successfully molded my children into little reflections of my own sense of humor, and in two cases, my own love of all things dr. seuss.

but this year, we have run into a little snafu. it seems that the monkey is now capable of independent thought. and in a giant act of rebellion against his canine-loving parents and select members of his extended family, the four-year-old has been unwavering in his commitment to be a “kitty cat” for halloween. this comes as quite a blow to andy and me, who have been plotting with another family to trick-or-treat as the entire cast of characters from yo gabba gabba.

just as andy and i were arguing over who would make a better DJ lance and pontificating about where we might obtain an orange jump suit, the words “kitty cat” were released into the environs. i must admit that my first inclination was to try to talk the monkey into being brobee or muno. but i did manage to choke out a hollow-sounding, “oooohhh, a kitty cat, huh? what color kitty cat?”

andy assured me that the kitty cat notion would be fleeting. he was wrong. the monkey has dug in his proverbial claws.

i could tell myself that the monkey’s halloween costume isn’t very important in the grand scheme of things. i could probably work my decider magic one more year and resume my ebay search for an orange jumpsuit. but i really think that this halloween costume debacle is one of my first opportunities to demonstrate concretely to my child that his ideas matter. the monkey has given me the perfect reminder that though part of my job is to influence who he becomes, another very important part entails celebrating who he already is.

so, this october 31st, our little monkey will be a kitty cat. what’s more, he will have the best damn kitty cat costume in the history of halloween. i will do anything for this child, including becoming a cat person.