Bitten

A few days ago a friend of mine posted a link to the San Francisco symphony's Halloween concert. To celebrate the day, they'll be providing live music for the classic vampire film, Nosferatu. If I still lived in the Bay Area, I'd be there in a heartbeat. Alas, I do not.

As I was reading about it, Little Dog appeared over my shoulder.

"Who is dat?" he asked, his voice filled with awe.

"That's a vampire. Nosferatu!" I said, in the creepiest voice I could muster. Then for good measure I added a chomp, well, an air chomp. (I'm not completely depraved)

"Oooh." he said, his eyes getting wide. "Moss-ver-ba-tu," followed by an air chomp of his own.

And with that, we created our own little act.

"Guess what I am?" I ask. He giggles, then I say "nosferatu!" and chomp at him. Then he takes a turn.

Big Dog got brought into the exchange pretty quickly, since Little Dog dragged him into the room and demanded I show him the Nosferatu picture on Facebook.

The scene evolved into the three of us sitting at the table taking turns being Nosferatu (or moss-ver-bat-tu as the case may be) and chomping then me getting designated as "Mommy Nasferatu!" chomp! And Mr. Dog rolling his eyes.

Yeah, we're that kind of family.