Kitty's Faerie

My three year old daughter, Kitty, asked me the following question, "what is, made of, hair?" I punctuated the question with those strangely placed commas, because that is as close as I can get to making it look how she meant it. She wasn't asking what products can we purchase that are made from hair. She wasn't asking a metaphysical question about my opinion of hair. She was asking what, exactly, is hair made from. And, it turns out, she didn't need to ask it as a question, because she already had an answer in mind, and before I could formulate and give one (which would probably have been, people pieces), she told me exactly what hair is made out of:

Eggs.

That amazing revelation reminds me that she has also recently weighed in on what apples and refrigerators are made from:

Tomatoes and cake, respectively.

Last night we went to our Schmiarron Schmecond Schmard's annual St. Hallow's Eve Party and Chili Cook Off. It turns out it wasn't our Schmard's party after all--oops. It was the neighboring Schmard's St. Hallow's Eve Party and Chili Cook Off. I guess they also combine their Hallow's Eve with Chili; (warning: here comes a toot joke) let's be honest, either way it's going to sound like a haunted house in there (hoo haw!).

They had a big banner sitting out in front of our shared church that announced it--that is why we thought it was ours. And, to our defense, we have four kids aged seven and under, so we have not been in attendance for, nor have we heard, the announcement part of our church services for about six years. The announcements happen while we're wrestling children into vans and frantically searching for shoes and cursing wildly under our breaths. So, who knew?

We felt kind of sheepish showing up on the wrong night and not just because we were all dressed in sheep costumes (bada bing!). Actually, Kitty--the three year old who believes in cake refrigerators--was dressed as an adorable "faerie" ("faerie" is the faerie spelling of fairy). She was wearing a set of wings that, when donned, she had fully expected to enable her to fly. Her disappointment was evident as she continually asked, "Why I cannot fly? Daddy, why I cannot fly?" Her questions led to this exchange:

Me: "have you tried jumping?"

Her: "yes."

Me: "do it one more time."

She jumps.

Me: "Wow! You flew for just a second."

Her: "Dad, don't be a pumpkin."

That is when I decided to change out of my pumpkin outfit and dress up as a sheep.

The End.