Benjamin will be eight years old in March.
I finally feel that time has come to retire as the resident "bad guy".
Ever since Ben could run around in the Tompkins Square Park, I've been routinely called upon to be the creature/villian/space alien who chases my little son and his friends around the playground as they squeal with excitement. Up and over monkey bars, swings, slides, black tops, lurking behind trees....
I want to retire from being
the Joker/Riddler/Cat Woman/Mr. Freeze
the Scarey Ghost
the Confederate Army (sorry southern friends)
the Central Powers (WWI)
the Axis Powers (WWII)
and of course "Big Mama", my persona when wrestling Ben on my bed while he pretends to be Mucha Lucha - the Mexican Wrestling Champ (as seen on Cartoon Network) with a red/white/blue leather wrestling mask brought from Mexico from his dear Uncle Mike...
well maybe we'll still wrestle as long as I can get him in a head vice 50% of the time.
I suppose I shouldn't complain - my husband has put in a million more villian hours than I have without complaint. Maybe it's just me. I've got bad guy burn out.