Owen got one of those little parachute men in his trick-or-treat bag, and we just got around to playing with it today. Except it's not a man; it's Frankenstein's monster. So... it's a Franken-chuter?
Attempt one: Caught in the tree
Attempt 4: Immediately after this shot, Scott's followthrough caught Owen's head and knocked him into the deck rail.
Attempt 47: Right after this shot, Owen got dizzy and fell down the steps.
There was no 48th attempt.
We currently don't have any furniture on the main floor of our house because we had the hardwoods refinished last week, so we came inside from Franken-chuting and headed to the basement. Owen likes to prop this box up on the edge of the couch, stand on the cushions and slide down inside. He usually says he's either water running down the drain or a passenger going down the jetway. Today he said he was on an actual plane and that he was waiting for DD and Coach to board so they could all fly far away. When I pressed him for the exact location, he said, "North Bullseye."
I think that's somewhere in Montana.
P.S. Happy 1st Wedding Anniversary Drew and Sarah!