At least, I think that’s what Batman would say if someone asked why he had a skeleton on the back of his batcycle. Then he would use some kind of batgadget to save us all from a nuclear warhead.
This is what playtime looks like around our house. My minions (all skeletons in our house smaller than me) get incorporated into a lot of different types of imaginary worlds. The mummy, which contains a skeleton obviously, has been camping with the giant white and black cats for two weeks now. In reality, it’s wrapped up in a Superman blanket with two stuffed animals sitting on the couch. And don’t you even THINK of trying to move them.
Other minions are dancing to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” or sometimes “Smooth Criminal.”
Some minions are wrestling dinosaurs. Some are sliding down my boy’s winter coat sleeves and some are hiding in the laundry. Some are chasing the dogs and some are saving the world with Spiderman and Captain America.
When I said my boy loves skeletons, I wasn’t kidding. As long as he’s got skeletons, he’s a happy boy.
Wait … I take that back. Attitudes can change pretty quickly around here. One minute the boy is playing nicely, the second, he’s a highly stressed, emotional ball of tears. All because mom said she was going to put a beetle in his nose.
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