Paty Kerry Live

Halloween happened. Paty Kerry was live in our home for a whole day. She sang through breakfast. She danced on her way to school. She posed for fans at her class party.

She performed on command at the Halloween Parade.

But no matter how big Paty Kerry got on Halloween, she didn’t forget the little guy.

“Dad,” Paty Kerry said, as she was walking out the door for trick or treating, “since you don’t have a costume, you can be part of my paparazzi.”

Dear Paty Kerry

Dear Paty Kerry,

My daughter, Piper, wants to be you. She’s five-years-old and is one of your biggest fans. In fact, for Halloween, Piper wants to wear a costume that she’s designed to be Paty Kerry.

It’s not just your blue hair that she adores. She understands your love of all things glitter. She feels that you are a kindred spirit. Piper likes to dress in costumes every day, just like you. She loves singing and dancing, just like you. And she believes in magical places, like the kind of that you invent on stage. When Piper sings “Firework,” she channels your energy and believes she really can go Boom, Boom, Boom. In fact, Piper’s birthday is just a few days past July 4th and she thinks that song was written just for its occasion.

I do steer Piper away, though, from some of your more mature lyrics. But mostly I just manage to keep them contained to our home. She’s in kindergarten after all and far from her first teenage dream, if you know what I mean. She hasn’t started kissing anyone yet, let alone girls and liking it. I’d love more G rated material from you by the way. It would really make my job easier. Piper doesn’t get most of what your lyrics say, but it’s a bit disarming to see her belt out Baby, let’s go all the way tonight on her walk to school. Fortunately, Piper thinks in your skin tight jeans is in your skim milk jeans, which is much more nutritious and probably explains why you can get into those jeans anyway.

And here’s Piper’s country version:

So if you decide you need a five-year-old back up singer on your next tour, Piper’s ready and waiting.


Piper’s Mom

P.S. I do realize your name is actually Katy Perry but not according to Piper. Sorry.

Clown. Witch. Ghost. None of the Above.

Halloween is upon us. At least that what my mail full of costume catalogs indicates. Piper can’t decide what she wants to be. It’s a daily drama. “I want to be a cowgirl. No. I want to be Dorothy from Wizard of Odd (you read that right). No. Maybe I’ll be a turtle. Or a fairy.” It goes on and on.

Sissy’s decided, though. “I think I’ll go as Piper (you read that right, too).”

I hadn’t realized that Piper has become a Halloween persona.

“Oh, that will be hard,” Piper said.

“Why? All I need is a tutu and rainbow stuff,” Sissy said.

Piper looked down at her tutu and rainbow shirt. She may have noticed her rainbow striped pants and sparkly headband. You know, dear reader, that I let Piper dress herself and sometimes I have to admit that she does look like she’s wearing a costume.

“Oh know. You’ll have to have the tutu, the rainbow shirt, the colorful bracelets, the braids, the jeweled headband, the sparkly sandals, the tattoos, the rainbow puppy underwear, and all the other stuff.”

“That’s a lot,” Sissy said.

“It’s not easy being a Piper. I don’t just come in a catalog, you know.”