In our house we dressed up all the time. We had access to a huge "costume box" year round, always dressing up like hobos and princesses and LAURA INGALLS WILDER (sigh, love her) and such. And a magical mother who encouraged us to do so. But when Halloween came around, I froze. Too much pressure. How could I not produce the perfect costume with all these resources at my disposal? It was unthinkable. So the pajama or whatever other homemade look at Halloween fell short of my own wild expectations, without fail. A Wonder Woman costume from the store might have solved all my angstiness. Ha! Unlikely, says my 35 year old self. No! It would have! says my 10 year old self.
And also--get this--my parents were the ones that handed out Nature Valley Granola Bars to trick-or-treaters. Did you ever trick or treat at my house? You probably didn't, because we lived way the h*ll out in the country and any trick-or-treaters would have been brought by car or else braved the no-sidewalk unpainted unlit roads. Very little return on sugar-seeking investment there. You might have done it for a full-size Snickers Bar, but not for whatever crappy un-treaty treat my parents would have dropped in your bag. Bless them and their crunchy hearts, I want to burst with pride in them right this moment.
As much as this would make a nice post about how I am transitioning these values of healthy eating and creativity to my son, not so much. Not this year anyway. Granola bars are a major treat in our house, yes. And Hugo is terrified of any masks or costume, so we have at least until next year for that. Maybe he would be interested in a Laura Ingalls Wilder getup. And someone gave him a giraffe costume because giraffes? AWESOME. He wore it once, gazed at himself in the mirror for ten minutes, and then off with it forever. Darn, he is cute.
So gearing up for another low-key Halloween this year, though you can be sure on the actual day I will be seized with regret about not alchemizing (is that a word?) the perfect costume from whatever crap is in my basement. I'm sure someone with my creative upbringing could do a lot with a drumset, Jeff's electronics collection, an old chair, and some underwear from 2002 that I might just wear again you never know. And a cat carrier. Some dryer sheets. The possibilities are endless.