Last year I bought him two race car driver costumes. The first one he is wearing on top, and the other, I picked up at 70% off sale in the weeks after Halloween. Please, he begged me at the time, please mom, I want to be a race car driver, he pleaded, pulling on the flimsy nylon bodysuit. I want to be a race car driver again next year.
Are you sure? I asked, how do you know?
I am! I just know! I always want to be a race car driver. Always! Every year!
He had no idea that whole new worlds and ideas and costumes and oh-my-gosh the Transformers were just waiting around the corner, speeding toward us faster than any stock car could. I knew, but I wanted to believe.
