chef

A few things to note:

1) The irony that my child is dressed as a chef when the list of things she will eat includes a total of four items is not at all lost on me. In fact, if you ask her what she wants to be when she grows up she will say, “Either a writer or a chef.” Maybe she will be the one who comes up the dietary solution for picky eaters everywhere. NO PRESSURE, LETA.

2) I overheard one of the seven thousand other five-year-old Elsas trick or treating that night say to her mother, “I’m so glad it’s not cold out here because that would have bothered me.” Um…

3) Should my friend Ivy’s character be taller than mine? Sure, if you’re going to get all stingy about details. But I almost gave four separate people a heart attack because they thought Piper Chapman had knocked on their front door to ask for candy. We nailed it.

3) Where’s Chuck? Remember my (ahem) hand injury? I hope my doctor is not reading this, but if he is… I’m putting my hand back into my cast right this second to see if it will stop throbbing after editing these. The reveal of Chuck’s costume requires a lot more intricate photoshop work, so hang tight. It’ll be worth the permanent damage.