This year my Elmo-costumed toddler raided a mere six houses, it was enough to partially fill her pumpkin-themed loot bag. Surprisingly there is still candy in that bag.

She didn’t gorge and eat all her candy in one sitting like she will in a few years. We didn’t let her, and she well, couldn’t. Her chubby toddler fingers combined with her toddler dexterity meant she was unable to open her candy.

So instead of opening and eating it, she carries it around. Every day looks like Halloween as she carts around her little trick-or-treat pumpkin.

Normally, as parents we could slowly steal a treat or two from her basket, except we can’t because she keeps a tight watch on the treat-filled pumpkin. She guards the candy like a dragon guarding treasure. And she itemizes its contents. Literally.

She empties the basket, counts the goods and places the candy back in the basket.

When she’s cataloguing her candy, she looks at each piece inquisitively and asks, “what’s that?”

To which we answer the appropriate candy name. She repeats the candy brand name in typical garbled toddler fashion. So Crispy Crunch becomes “Kisbee Unch” and so on.

She can never keep track of the proper nomenclature, so she identifies her candies by packaging colour. Turns out most candy packaging is yellow or red.

Occasionally during her daily itemizing, she will hand out her candy. She gives the candy to her favourite toys and occasionally to my wife and me. She is very specific about who gets what candy. No tradesies but you can eat the candy.

It’s delicious. That free candy from strangers that our daughter earned by dressing up as her favourite Muppet.

When she shares her candy with us, we share the candy back with our daughter. We’re not monsters. She’s allowed to have the occasional treat. Halloween candy is perfectly toddler-sized after all.

My daughter and I are going trick-or-treating this evening. It’s only her second time going door-to-door plundering in costume. Last year, she didn’t quite get it and mistook Halloween candy for toys. This year, I’ve put together a handy guide to explain the ins and outs of what will fill her loot bag.

Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups – A beautiful combination of peanut butter and chocolate. Hand over to Dad.

Apples – Really? Apples?! Who’s giving out apples?!

Candy Apples – Not worth the lost fillings.

Candy Corn – Neither candy nor corn. Place immediately in garbage.

M&Ms – The American version of Smarties with melts-in-your-mouth-not-in-your-hand technology.

Canadian Smarties – Separate by colour. Eat the red ones last.

Rockets/American Smarties – Like Tums only tastier.

Sour Patch Kids – Let me get the camera ready before you eat this.

Tootsie Rolls – What candy used to taste like before they invented flavour.

Twizzlers – Licorice in the vaguest sense of the word. Enjoy after you donate a piece to your Mom.

Miniature Toothbrushes – This is why toilet paper always goes on sale around Halloween.

Chips – A salty reprieve from all these sweets. Only one fully intact chip per bag, the rest are crumbs.

Three Musketeers – One for all. All for me.

Skittles – Ooh, the bright colours!

Kit Kat – Daddy always needs a break. Please hand over.

Caramels – Nothing special. Feel free to pick them out of your tiny teeth for the next two days.

Hershey’s Kisses – These will be the last candy in your loot bag. No one wants to eat them.

Candy Bracelets – Any candy that is designed to mimic jewelry is not worthy eating.

Spooky Candy – Any candy that is designed to be “spooky for Halloween” probably tastes like another six-letter word that starts with S and ends in Y.

Hopefully this will help my daughter understand the complex world of Halloween candy. If there’s still any confusion regarding a candy, she should follow this simple rule – Give it to your Dad.

Knuffle Bunny Too: A Case of Mistaken Identity by Mo Willems is a popular book in our household. It tells the tale of two identical Knuffle Bunnies. One is a pauper who lives with his abusive father. The other is a prince and heir apparent to the throne. As a jest, the Knuffle Bunnies switch clothes and identities. In the process they learn valuable life lessons about how the other side lives.

I could be mistaken with that summary. Either way Knuffle Bunny Too: Knuffle Bunny Harder is an enjoyable cautionary tale for identical twins. As you may have surmised from the title Knuffle Bunny Too: The Wrath of Khan is actually the sequel to Mo Willems’ popular book Knuffle Bunny One: A New Hope. Knuffle Bunny Too: Knuffle Bunny’s Bogus Journey is followed by the final book in the trilogy, Knuffle Bunny Three: The Return of the King.

As fate would have it we read the second book first. It was a gift from a friend whose daughter was familiar with the books. Reading the sequel first was like watching The Empire Strikes Back before any other Star Wars movie – enjoyable. Empire being the best movie of the series, you’d be better off if you stopped watching Star Wars movies after Empire.

Like Empire, Knuffle Bunny Too: Judgment Day is my favourite of the Knuffle Bunny trilogy. Having not read the prequel prior to reading this book, I’d always assumed that Knuffle Bunny was a special handmade toy given to Trixie a la a certain other literary bunny made of velveteen. But the fact that another girl in Trixie’s class also has a Knuffle Bunny makes the plush toy seem more like a Cabbage Patch Doll. I probably should have warned you about spoilers prior to that sentence. Oops.

Brief aside, the entire tale is set in the mean streets of New York. Despite not living anywhere near the Empire State, my daughter is convinced that the entire Knuffle Bunny incident takes place at her daycare. When she sees Trixie’s school, my daughter begins to identify the illustrations as other toddlers at her daycare. Not that I correct her.

Anyhow, the bunnies aren’t actually identical. It only took about a dozen readings before I realized the difference. Hint: Look for the bow. It also took a dozen or so reading before I read the story’s epilogue. Call me old fashioned but when there’s a page in a book that says ‘The End’, I consider the book finished and close it up.

Now I have to read the epilogue. My daughter knows that it’s there. I don’t mind, Knuffle Bunny Too: The New Batch with its exhausted-father-saves-the-day storyline is an enjoyable and surprisingly identifiable book. I’ve yet to have a midnight stuffed animal hostage exchange with another father in the streets of New York, but if it means my daughter will sleep through the night, I could see myself doing it.

Rubber Duckie

Rubber Duckie is the Casablanca of Sesame Street videos, a simple ode to everyone’s favourite bathtime friend, the rubber ducky. I challenege you to see a rubber duck and not hum a few bars.

Yip Yip Phones

If rubber ducky is Sesame Street’s Casablanca, then the Yip Yips are its cult classic. These martians who are slowly discovering Earth’s inventions are a riot. My daughter’s become hip to the Yip too. Now when we watch their videos, she mimics their familiar sound. Yip. Yip. Uh huh.

Bert’s Nephew

During my childhood, I was fascinated with all the bath toys that Ernie had in this video. During my adulthood, I’m more fascinated by the presence of a member of Bert’s extended unibrowed family.

Gone Fishin’

Before even rewatching this video, I remembered Ernie’s classic fishing technique. Sadly, it never worked in real life angling situations.

C is for Cookie

What else would C be for! It’s a classic Cookie Monster video from back when cookies were more than just a sometimes snack. I may or may not have had this song on my iPod pre-baby.

Judging from the contents of the classic list, I grew up in the Bert and Ernie phase of Sesame Street. My daughter missed that phase, but thanks to YouTube I show tell her how much cooler these retro videos are than all those Elmos.

Of course Elmo is not designed for my mature palate. So I was surprised to find that I enjoyed an Elmo video at all. And overjoyed when I finally saw this Elmo video.

Ahh, Ricky Gervais, creator of The Office, Golden Globes host extraordinaire and tormenter of Elmo.

It’s all gentle fun. He’s not hosting The Comedy Central Roast of Elmo. (BTW, Comedy Central, huge ratings if you did this.) He’s just gently annoying the poor celebri-muppet.

And Sesame Street knows what they’re doing. Sesame Street has always had two audiences, the kids and their parents. See Katy Perry’s outfit in her Elmo appearance for further reference. With this video Sesame Street is giving parents a little revenge on their overplayed muppet.

While I may enjoy this Elmo video, my daughter doesn’t care for it. It is her least favourite Elmo video. She complains that Ricky Gervais is “bugging Elmo.” Apparently bugging Elmo is not okay with toddlers. Only with their parents.

I was stuck in the middle of a baby minefield recently. There were babies everywhere. Everywhere. Dozens of babies descended upon this house. You had to watch where you stepped, lest you squash a crawler.

Where was I? At daycare? At a baby flash-mob? At the stork’s processing centre?

No, I was at the birthday party of the daughter of an old friend. We were celebrating her first birthday. She was probably more or less oblivious to the controlled chaos that surrounded her.

A baby’s first birthday is always a party for the parents. The baby doesn’t know that she’s having a princess party. She knows she’s having fun but that’s it. The parents are just expressing their love for their little one with tiny sandwiches, balloons, and by inviting everyone they know to eat said tiny sandwiches.

There were kids of all ages at this tiny sandwich/princess party; fetuses, babies, toddlers, kids, tweens, teens, and single 30-somethings likely grumbling about not having kids. Yes, I just described single 30-somethings as kids in that previous sentence.

It was quite the party. Toys were strewn all over to entertain the little ones. There was cake and sugary treats to fuel the kids/adults. In the background there was the distant white noise of a baby crying. There was always a baby crying.

There was even a toddler music class sandwiched between the madness.

Having a conversation with a fellow grown up was difficult. You’d get half-way through the sentence before either you or the person you were speaking with, had to go and deal with a baby. Getting time with the birthday girl was just as difficult.

Despite the intensity and the sugar and the noise and the random children climbing on furniture our daughter was having a great time. Maybe the good time was because of these things.

Babies seem to love other babies’ parties even if they don’t know what they are. Was my daughter celebrating the birth of a friends’ child? Not really. But she was having a good time eating sweets and playing with a stranger’s toys.

It was a successful first birthday party, there weren’t even any head wounds.

It was so successful that the next morning our daughter woke up and talked about the party. She wanted to go back. In her mind, the party never ended. We had to break the news that it was over. Baby birthday parties only last an afternoon.

Thankfully.

You may remember Kevin Nealon from his stint on Saturday Night Live as the host of Weekend Update between Adam Sandler’s nonsensical songs and Victoria Jackson’s cartwheels.

If I say “Hans and Franz” and you don’t respond with “And we’re here to pump… you up” then you probably don’t remember Kevin Nealon from SNL. If so, you may be too young to have a baby.

Kevin Nealon is also the star of the television show Weeds, which I’ve heard is a great show. My wife and I have been meaning to watch it; it’s on our list we just have to get through Battlestar Galactica, The Sopranos, Deadwood, Freaks and Geeks, and a few others before we watch it.

Kevin Nealon is also a father. You may have surmised this from the title of his first book, Yes, You’re Pregnant, But What About Me? Surprisingly, with a title like that, he’s still a married father.

Unlike my foray into fatherhood, Kevin Nealon became a dad at the age when my dad was almost a granddad. He became a dad in his 50s. His early 50s, but still 50s, as in his mailbox contained the AARP Bulletin and a subscription to Pregnancy magazine.

His book includes some career stories, a detour along the way with his first wife who did not want to have kids, and the disturbing imagery of Kevin Nealon working out half-naked in his garage.

But most of the book is about fatherhood and the requisite fears that accompany fatherhood. There are a lot of fears: What if the baby looks like me and not my wife? Am I too old to be a father? Will Arnold Schwarzenegger be upset at my portrayal of his “distant cousin” Hans?

That last question weighs heavily on all fathers. Fortunately, Arnie wasn’t upset.

From his days on SNL we follow Kevin to his wife’s pregnancy, where Kevin, like most husbands acts as a mere bystander in the final act. He’s given the important task of creating the birthing playlist and manning the ipod while his wife contracts and labours.

Spoiler alert, the book ends with Kevin Nealon becoming a father which is great, because Kevin Nealon already looks like a dad. If I were to cast a family sitcom, Kevin Nealon would be a good casting spec for suburban father.

Is Kevin Nealon a good father? Maybe. The book ends with the birth of his child. There’s no sequel, no It’s Your Turn to Entertain the Toddler complete with a new picture of Kevin Nealon looking tired and harried.

I’ll just assume that he’s a good father. No one wants to read about a father’s daily trial and tribulations with their toddler, right?

My wife and I have both been reading Tina Fey’s new book, Bossypants. It’s an entertaining read, but don’t take my recommendation listen to every other website or publication that has recommended it.

Bossypants, by the way, also a great name for every toddler’s biography.

Tina Fey, if you don’t know is the former head writer of Saturday Night Live, star of 30 Rock, and Sarah Palin doppelganger. She’s also quite funny.

I enjoyed the book. The book is mostly showbiz tales and pre-showbiz tales. There’s a bit of parenting advice thrown in here and there. If you’ve read a mommy/daddy blog you’ll identify with this gem.

“Like most people who had one baby, I am an expert on everything and will tell you, unsolicited, how to raise your kid!”

What did my daughter think of the book?

Well for one, my daughter has never seen an episode of 30 Rock, SNL, and doesn’t follow American politics. For two, my daughter can’t read. She flipped through the book and looked at the pictures.

To my daughter Tina Fey is… Well, when my daughter saw the book with its odd cover, she took one look at Tina Fey and said, “Mommy!”

For clarity my wife does not look like the former governor of Alaska or a geeky-chic librarian.

After being identified as Liz Lemon’s alter-ego, my wife clarified the confusion for our daughter.

“No, that’s Tina Fey.”

Our daughter responded with “Hi Tina Fey!” and a kiss to the front cover.

This didn’t clarify the identity issues, as our daughter began to page through the book and misidentified Mommy and Daddy at each turn.

A picture of Tina Fey and former presidential hopeful John McCain was met with “Mommy and Daddy”. Mommy looks a lot more like Tina Fey than I resemble John McCain.

Mommy and Daddy's magazine cover.

Then my daughter saw a picture of Tracy Morgan/Jordan and exclaimed “Mommy!” Yes, apparently Mommy is a slightly overweight black man. Standing next to Tracy was Alec Baldwin. Alec was identified as “Daddy!”

For those of you who don’t know me, yes, I look surprisingly like Alec Baldwin. A young Alec Baldwin.

So if you’re following along, my wife somehow looks like both Tracy Morgan and Tina Fey to our daughter. And I look like John McCain and/or Alec Baldwin. If you split the difference between those two men, I suppose that is more or less what I resemble. Unless you believed the previous paragraph.

After reading Tina Fey’s Bossypants, I’ve come to one conclusion, my daughter needs glasses. Though when she sees herself in the mirror, she might think she’s looking at Tina Fey. Or Tracy Morgan.

I was away on business again recently. It was the sequel to my previous business trip. It was Away on Business 2: Electric Bugaloo. Like any sequel it was bigger, longer, there were more explosions, less exposition and Megan Fox was replaced by a different actress.

This sequel was one of the good sequels and not the cash grab sequels. It was Spider-man 2 and not The Hangover 2. It was a good business trip. Even for a sequel.

Of course, I missed a lot of things about my daughter while I was away. Here they are in list form, because lists are easy.

The weight

Whether you’re picking her up for a cuddle or trying to calm her from a tantrum, you get used to that extra toddler weight. I was 24 pounds lighter while away. My toddler saddle bags were back home. Cuddling some bags of rice at the local grocery store doesn’t seem to cut it.

The voice

My daughter has this funny little toddler voice. She mispronounces words, slurs her speech, and is generally unintelligible 60 percent of the time. I was surrounded by completely telligible people while away. And never had to say “Daddy, doesn’t understand you” to any of my coworkers.

The tantrums

Just kidding. Moving on.

The wife

I also missed my wife. She’s my other half. The ying to my jelly. The yang to my peanut butter. And a mandatory inclusion in all blog lists.

The leg attention

When you have a toddler, your legs get a lot of attention. My daughter stands at my leg height. So when she hugs me, she hugs my legs. When she wants to get my attention, she tugs at my legs. When I’m away on business, the gams get no attention.

The alarm clock

My daughter is our alarm clock. She wakes up early and we wake up. I haven’t set an alarm in nearly two years, except when I’m away on business. When I’m away on business I have to set an alarm or get a wakeup call from the front desk. When I’m home my daughter is the wakeup call.

What will I miss when I’m away on business for the three-quel? It’s tough to say. If I follow the rules of most trilogies, then this list if just a teaser for the next list. And this list is probably going to be better than the next list. Stay tuned.