The Lone Ranger

We have now officially fallen to a distant 2nd for Balthazar’s adoration. My mother gave him the gift of a lifetime – somewhat inadvertently – yesterday. She had been at a dog party where the requirement was to dress up your animals for Halloween. Among hers, she had some cowboy and villain paraphernalia that fell into the hands of one 4-year-old on the farm. Balthazar must have nearly vibrated into hysteria at his luck. He’s all boy, and as such, enamored by all things weaponry and heroic. I’ll have to get a picture on this post as soon as I can; he describes himself as “Cowboy Superhero.” His garb consists of two side shooter cap guns, the belt with holsters, sun glasses (Power Ranger), a cape, and a Sheriff’s star. Oh, he also has hand-cuffs which – thank you mom – are metal and rather painfully slapped onto the wrists. They’re not even useful for cuffing the boy to a hand railing while I go and take a nap – he can wriggle out of them at their tightest setting.

With the power of the Internet, I was able to demonstrate to this superhero that his act has already been done and he has a more proper name, “The Lone Ranger.” He didn’t have a cape, but he had a horse named Silver and sported a red neckerchief (thank you, dear, for the proper term). We watched some opening scenes of the old shows; I learned that there was a cartoon series as well. Then we found this…

I have either destroyed the fantasy of the Lone Ranger forever, or made an enduring memory that will always leave him thinking wistfully of the masked hero of yesteryear. Either way, we both laughed our asses off!