Animorph

If Ivy could speak more than two words at a time, she'd probably tell you that she had mixed feelings going into Halloween, but now that she's eaten M&Ms for breakfast and a Tootsie Pop for lunch, she's decidedly in the Pro-October 31 camp.

Her real hang-up was the costume. 

At first she was okay with it.

Then she thought about it.

And after some reflection, Ivy decided it just wasn't for her. It could be that the hat just wouldn't stay on straight. It could be that the pig suit adds ten pounds. It could be that I didn't even think to ask her which animal  she would like to emulate on Hallow's Eve. If I had asked, these would be pictures of her as a frog. For the past week she's declared "I Fra!" (I'm a frog) and bounced around the apartment yelling, "Ribi!" (Ribbit).  But I didn't ask, and Ivy found that upsetting.

Sure, I felt bad about my total disregard for her opinions and preferences, but we had places to go and people to see and very little time to get Ivy on board with pigdom. So I resorted to the  oldest trick in the book. "Ivy, you look soooooooooooo cute!" I said over and over while showing Ivy her own reflection. 

"I Pee Pee!" (piggy), she finally said. Flattery works every time, on every one. 

Then of course, Trick or Treating was the best thing to ever happen to her. The dogs. The other kids. The decorations. She had to take it all in at every house, spending an excessive amount of time staring at the candy, talking to the puppy, or trying to invite herself in to strangers' homes, so all in all we made it to about ten doors in an hour, the spoils of which have kept my little fra on a sugar high all morning, and she's been ribbi-ing from one room to the next. What a great holiday.