Here I am, happy, relaxed, looking pretty good. Nice fluffy fur. Pretty pearly white teeth. Adorable fuzzy ears. I look JUST FINE THIS WAY.
Then my mom got the bright idea that I might look cute as a bat. A BAT! Hello rabies! I don’t know any bats with purple satin wings. I really hate this hat thing. And the velcro itches.
Seriously? It’s not 1983. Dear Mother: I dare you to do this to YOUR hair. I will wear this IF AND ONLY IF you set the precedent.
This crustacean costume still smells like Henry. This was his favorite Halloween outfit. So get it off me. NOW.
No comment besides I HATE IT.
I grow weary of your antics. My disposition is not well suited to a devil outfit. Again, this was Henry’s purview.
Here’s me growing weary.
As your reigning liege, I command that you cease and desist.
If I could find my magic wand I’d curse you to a lifetime of Velveeta and stale saltines.
Remind me to look for that wand. Later.