To help Conor prepare for Trick or Treat, while we cuddled before bedtime for the week or so before Halloween, I told him stories about how he would go to the door of someone's house and knock on it and the homeowner would open up the door and say "Hello?" and he'd say Trick or Treat!!! and then they'd give him candy.*
And guess what happened on Halloween? He went up to houses, knocked on the door, stood there like a frightened pirate and they would call him a fine pirate and give him candy.
Every night since then, however, when I come in to cuddle and tuck him in, he runs ahead of me and shuts his bedroom door. I wait a few seconds and then I knock.
"Hello?" he says.
"Trick or Treat!" I say.
"Come on in!" he says, opening the door wider. Every time this happens, it flashes through my mind to explain to him that if that EVER really happens to him in real life to RUN! RUN! RUN! back to the street and get us!! Yet, in this world, I walk into his room and he shuts the door. (Again, I think RUN! SON, RUN!!)
"Here's some candy!" he says handing me sweet air. He gives himself some and we both eat it.
Then he turns off the light, I turn on the fan and he (literally) hops in bed.
He may eat some more pretend candy but by this time, we switch to cuddling and he calls me his mommy birdie and I call him my baby birdie. But that's a whole other story.
*That is by far the longest sentence I've ever blogged.