It’s true. I have no shame.
A couple of weeks ago, Husband and I took the kids to a Renaissance Faire. Now, I love these things, even if half the women are, shall we say, lacking both adequate clothing and adequate sunscreen. Still, it’s a hoot. (Incidentally, I got myself a really cool, steampunky watch–it’s a necklace encased in clear acrylic, and you can see the gears on the back. Fully awesome. Daughter got herself a compass–again, very steampunk. All I can say is… she is mine. Boy child got another wooden sword. I was pushing for the trebuchet, but what can I say? He says he wants to be a prospector/Viking/king when he grows up. I suppose the sword is a requirement).
In any case, Monk dressed up as a Viking (or, rather, in a peasant outfit and her brother’s Viking helmet) and took her stuffed tyrannosaur. We put Edinor in a dress. I wanted her to wear a necklace, but Monk put her foot down. Apparently, a tyrannosaur wearing a dress and bling is not period appropriate. Whatever, kid.
So, without further ado, the continuing adventures of my daughter’s Tyrannosaur in a dress. Oh, and a few of the kids, for good measure.