Pirate Boy

These days, it is difficult to leave the house unless E. is dressed up. Sometimes it's his {too big} Spiderman costume. Other times, he stuffs his blanket into the neck of his shirt and proclaims that he's Super Why! But most of the time, he's a Pirate. 

He races behind me, ahead of me, everywhere within a 50 ft radius of me at the grocery store, struggling to grasp both a sword and a telescope while wearing a hook on one hand. He's constantly dropping his hat, or stomping his foot because his eye patch has slipped down to his nose. He says "Arrrgh!" in a deep, menacing voice and has made up his own "Yo ho ho!" song that he sings while swinging an arm and pinching one eye shut. 

I've received some odd looks whenever I take him out in public, which always surprises me. Isn't this one of the supernal joys of being a 3 year old? He is so uninhibited, so joyfully embracing these different personas, I can't help but smile. 

Someday, he'll have outgrown this phase and moved on to the teenage version of playing dress up. I could be walking through the store with a sulking goth, or a skater boy, or a sloppy outdoors-man type. I suppose that when that time comes, little boys in pirate costumes will make me stare, too.