Blue Nightmare

Primo's school is having activities and theme days leading up to Halloween. Yesterday was "Crazy Day," and kids were supposed to dress crazily to raise awareness about the crazy decision to try drugs. The implementation at our house involved putting everything on backwards. I thought a tinfoil hat and his old Little Tikes shopping cart might seem ... insensitive. Too bad, because it's already full of stuffed animals.

I don't know about everyone else, but Primo kept his clothes on backwards for the rest of the day. I got to feel like we were constantly getting ready for a formal, with him turning his back to me and asking to be zipped up. At bedtime, he put his pajamas on backward and inside-out, telling us "it's still 'Crazy Day.'"

So, to recap, doing drugs is crazy. Crazy like wearing your clothes backwards. Wearing your clothes backwards is fun. Fun enough to do all day long. And, if wearing your clothes backwards is crazy and fun, taking it to the next level and turning them inside out, too, is super fun! Do those Canadian online pharmacies sell methadone?

Had I known I might be sewing seeds for future hallucinations, I probably wouldn't have sent the pepperoni pizza pictured above. It's meant to be a scarecrow, but could have used a hand or a pole or something to finish it off. The hat is carved Jonathan apple, the small apples at top maraschino cherries. The crows are made from black grapes and carrots, and the corn next to the scarecrow's head is romaine lettuce pasted to Club crackers with Laughing Cow cheese spread. I used a packaged "Mexican" mix from Sargento instead of mozzarella to get a nice orange hue to the pizza.

Pizza is always a winner, so I finished up the crust this morning and made pizzas for Primo and my wife, who was going to join him for lunch. We all ended up going up to have lunch with him and lots of the kids were wearing "drug-free" ribbons. I choose to believe that everybody got them, even though some kids weren't wearing them. Either that, or they need drug education way more than I would have expected. Which is possible, too, because the kid sitting next to us at the lunch table pointed at his ribbon and said "free drugs!" Then he told my wife they weren't allowed to "eat any drugs this week, but next week [they] can."

Anybody who feels like they're about to say "It's never too early to talk to your kids about x" should talk to a kindergartener about x first. And they should talk to that particular kindergartener about X first. And put it on YouTube.

And speaking of things it's too early to talk to your - and by that I mean my - kids about, we had rehearsal for whatever after-school special we're inevitably going to live out.

INT. CAR - DUSK

DAD sits in the driver's seat. PRIMO and Secundo in their carseats behind.

DAD

So, who do you want to dress up as on Friday (the school's Halloween party)?

PRIMO

(happy)

The blue Power Ranger!

Dad looks in the rearview mirror at Primo. We see Primo in the mirror, looking out his window.

DAD

You don't want to be Martian Manhunter or the Red Tornado?

PRIMO

No.

DAD

You're sure?

PRIMO

(happy)

 Yes.

DAD

Even though you've never seen the Power Rangers?

PRIMO

(happy)

 Yes.

Dad looks back at the road.

DAD

Even though other kids will probably be dressed as the blue Power Ranger?

Primo looks at the back of Dad's head and gestures to indicate emphasis.

PRIMO

(happy)

 That's okay! There are going to be two Mighty Cyruses and three Hannah Matanas! And Jack is going to be the red Power Ranger! So if I'm the blue one, we can be together!

DAD

(pauses)

You're killing me, do you know that?

You don't even know what you want! This is just a phase! You're going to grow out of this and then you're going to regret this for the rest of your life!

The Power Rangers are stupid. Is that what you want to be? Stupid?

Okay. You can be the blue Power Ranger.

And, scene. Look, I know we're going to get to the Power Rangers someday. I saw "Inframan" in a double-feature with "Tron" at the drive-in when I was seven and I've thought countless problems I've had since then could have been easily and effectively solved with Thunderball Fists. I just don't want to be there yet. I want the kid who begged for Super Grover shoes in his size three weeks ago (after he saw his little brother's pair) to stick around a while longer.

I had told him he could be a Power Ranger on one condition. He'd heard from a friend that "Jungle Fury" Power Rangers could turn into anything that was the same color that they were. I've used that to my own great amusement in pretend play sessions when he insists on being a Power Ranger. ("You can turn into anything blue?" "Anything." "I bet you can't turn into a blueberry." "Pshoo! I'm a blueberry." "Cool. I'm a bear, and I ate you all up." "Daaaaad!" "What's that I hear in my tummy?" And so on.)

So, the condition was that he could be a Power Ranger, but that he had to have turned into an especially fluffy blue bunny. He seemed resistant, but I explained that he could wear a Power Ranger costume with big, furry hands, feet and ears, and he agreed.

I thought about following through on it, but what it really said to me was that it would make him genuinely happy to dress up as the blue Power Ranger. Even bunnified. So, after that last conversation to make sure it was what he wanted, I bought him the blue Power Ranger costume - not "Jungle Fury," the show's current incarnation is "Power Rangers: SVU RPM" - and let myself enjoy both the sudden freedom from having to assemble an obscure-superhero costume from scratch and the ease with which I was able to let my son do something I thought was kinda stupid but made him happy. And enjoy that it ended up not just being pretty easy, but making me feel pretty good, too.