GAYS MILLS - Well dear readers, I’ll have you know Halloween was a great success!
Thatcher was, in fact, a swordfish. Waylon was a monkey under a pile of coats in stroller who looked kind of tired and miserable, probably the distinct lack of candy coming his way. Chasca made a delightful looking oversized hot dog, and I went the easy way out and wore a wolf mask and my brand new winter jacket.
Special shout out to the grandparents, Mark and Janet, who joined in on the wild and crazy adventure. Mark, dressed as deranged looking ape-man-beast, and Janet was...some type of Pink Haired Disco Rabbit from another dimension.
I have to come clean though; Thatcher’s costume looked very little like a swordfish, blue marlin or any other kind of epic sea creature. He looked more like a sparkly blueberry on the end of a skewer.
We put off the costume making until late Wednesday night, which really was a rookie parent costume-making move. Thatcher was delighted to join in on the bedazzling of his sweat suit, which turned out to also be a rookie move as he joyously squirted ALL of the paint out at once. Leaving me scraping the tiny tube clean to finish the job.
The sword itself was supposed to be Chasca’s undertaking. He tends to be a little more of a craft visionary than I am. For I have the craft skills of a toddler. Think, Ralph Wiggum from the Simpsons when he reports “Mrs. Krabappel? Can I get some help here? I think I glued my head to my shoulder!”
But, at the end of a long day, with a busy baby crawling all over one really isn’t at their peak condition for crafting.
After some deconstructing and reconstructing of an old cardboard box, Thatcher was left with a giant, pointy, skewer the likes of which have never been seen protruding from the hat of a toddler.
All out of paint, we had to resort to the next best thing. Trusty old Reynolds Wrap.
I padded into the kitchen and whipped open the drawer. I tried not to express my fears that my son will look terrible in his first homemade costume as I enthusiastically returned with the long blue box.
I quickly began ripping sheets off of the roll as Chasca looked on with serious skepticism in his eyes.
“Shouldaaaa stayed Danieeel Tigggerrr!” He said in a sing-song voice, under his breath, referring to Thatcher’s pre-Halloween, Halloween costume.
All the while, Thatcher and Waylon completely lost interest in the construction of the costume and had found a Rubbermaid tub to crawl into.
“Mom! Look! We have a BOAT! Bopper and I are goin’ fishin’!” Thatcher announced as he snatched his brother around the midsection and attempted to scoot the tub cross the floor.
Happy the kids were distracted; I shot Chasca a “don’t say another word about this costume unless it’s ‘WHAT A GREAT COSTUME!’ look” and proceeded to tinning and taping.
Finally, after some more desperate smushing of tinfoil and elaborate shaping efforts, my work was done.
Thatcher of course was eager to put it on right away. So, we immediately assisted him into the big blue get up.
“Wow!” The toddler exclaimed. “I look GREAT!” Waves of relief washed over me as the first Halloween hurdle was passed.
The next morning, I packed his suit up and sent it along to daycare, ensuring them I had a pep talk with Thatcher about being aware of his enormous sword and to please try not to jab anyone in the face with it.
This round two was apparently successful, as I received zero disciplinary notes from daycare.
Finally, we were upon the last challenge of the evening. The big moment was here. We were to go trick or treating. Thatcher continued to love his costume as we strolled the streets of La Farge. However, he really seemed to have no notion he had a giant tinfoil rod coming out of his head as he wagged it about from house to house. He did though, have the notion he should proudly announce “ \Hey! I’M A SWORD FISH!” at every house, rather than the traditional Trick or Treat usually reserved for this moment.
Chasca and I both had kind of an overly intense parent moment during all of this, as we shouted like fans from the sidelines at the toddler.
“DID YOU SAY TRICK OR TREAT!? SAY TRICK OR TREAT! SAY THANK YOU! GO BACK AND SAY THANK YOU!!!”
Perhaps totally mesmerized by all of the colorful wrappers, Thatcher neglected to acknowledge our desperate attempt for him to use his good manners he’s so famous for. Instead, he proceeded to nearly knock the glasses off of several old ladies during his methodical harvesting of candy.For now, all of the Halloween costumes have been tucked away for another year and the candy bucket is sitting upon the kitchen counter for the adults to graze (for some reason, Thatcher has already forgotten its glory.) And we begin plotting ways to be less crafting-challenged in the years ahead, because I don’t predict Thatcher will become a conventional-costume-wearing kid anytime soon….