I was standing in front of the elementary school in an ill-fitting cow costume, on a borrowed cell phone.
"Bring me the gun," I said to Barry into the phone.
Nathan was dressed as a cowboy for Halloween, it was the parade at school, and I had left his gun at home.
As I waited by the side of the road, a cow on a phone, waiting for a gun, the humor was not lost on me. It was probably my one shining moment of the year. I was, at last, at peace with my inner retard. We were at one. My interior matched my exterior. And the gun was on its way.
