By Tobi Schwartz-Cassell
Our kids always knew what they wanted to be for Halloween. Or at least they never outwardly pondered their costumes. As a matter of fact, our daughter Jardin would usually come home on the first day of school and announce what character she’d be bringing to life on October 31.
Back when our son Richard was still an only child, I actually had time to sew his costumes. He too always knew what persona he would take on for Halloween. When he was three, he wanted to be Peter Pan. I bought green felt and a feather, and I was on my way. The next year, he wanted to be a Ninja Turtle. No problem. More green felt and voila! If I remember correctly, he was Raphael so he could wear an “R” on his belt buckle. The following year he wanted to be Ninja Pan. That could not have been easier. We took the best from each of the previous years’ costumes and fashioned something that made him proud and happy. A lot of people questioned what he was that year, but Richard has always had a healthy sense of self, so he pulled it off without breaking a sweat.
Jardin has never identified with my “girly girl” nature which runs deep into my soul. So the last time she was a princess was when she was five and didn’t have an opinion. When Richard was one, he obviously had no opinion, so he was a Jersey tomato—complete with a Miss America-type sash that proclaimed what his costume was, just in case he prematurely pulled off his green cap.
So what’s my dilemma? This year, Stan and I have been invited to a Halloween party, and unlike our children, we are completely stumped as to what we should be.
In past years, when I was a room mom for my kids, I’d dress up like one of my idols—Lucille Ball. One year I was Chocolate Factory Lucy, another year I was Vitameatavegamin Lucy, and the year I was pregnant with Jardin, I came to Richard’s class party as Lucy with a bun in the oven.
But I think the Lucy ship has finally sailed for me.
So who do I secretly want to be? Barbie. I can’t help it. And a brand new friend of mine just gifted me with the perfect frock! (Thank you Cathleen!) It’s a a pretty pink circa 60s shirtwaist dress with a tiny waist. All I need now are big fake pointy boobs and a crinoline and I’ll be all set. Unlike my son, I don’t want to be an action figure. Unlike my daughter, I want to be something sickeningly feminine. So it’s off to Goodwill to find the rest of my outfit.
Now help me figure out whether Stan should be Ken or GI Joe. Hmmmm….which one do you think is sexier? 😉 Don’t forget to comment below. The party’s coming up fast!