Mistaken Identity

Jack did the funniest thing Friday night at the Halloween Carnival. We had retreated inside to make crafts before heading home and Sam had removed his gorilla hat and feet. I stuffed them into the top of my diaper bag and walked around watching the boys color and play at the craft table. Jack started calling, "Lucille. Lucille." I thought nothing of what he was saying and didn't even respond. Soon he was saying, "Here, kitty, kitty. Here kitty, kitty." I turned around to see him making his way to me calling Lucille, our (very black) cat. As I stopped to try to figure out what in the world he was talking about, he ran up to my side, hunched over my diaper bag and began talking to Lucille. "Hey, kitty, kitty. Hey Lucille. C'mon kitty, kitty. C'mon." He then leaned over and began kissing "Lucille," which in reality was the head of Sam's gorilla costume. He began petting the costume and continued talking to "Lucille." I tried not to laugh because I sure didn't want to hurt his feelings, but I was giggling over my crazy boy. Oh, the innocence. That he would think I would carry around our very moody, very anti-social cat all evening in my diaper bag is beyond my comprehension. Did he think she'd been hiding in the bag, tucked safely under my arm all evening, the cat that I don't even allow in the house? He sure did. And not to disappoint my little buddy, I played along, getting in the car ever so carefully so as not to smash her against the seat and even pretended she jumped out of the bag when we got home and he saw her resting on the porch. I do my part in this fun life with Jack. And I love every second of it.