We should all tote boom boxes

3 11 2008

Thank you for your comments on the DJ Lance costume, everyone! Ethan LOVED it, too. He could not stop grinning pretty much the whole evening. You could tell he felt so totally Cool wearing this costume. And as a result, I could not wipe the stupid grin off of my face; I was so happy he liked it, because, you know, 3-year-olds are pretty notorious for changing their minds. I’d imagined a scene in which I show him his costume and he cries real tears because it’s not a mail man uniform or whatever other random thing he’d decided he wanted instead and so the fact that he was still into the costume, after all my hard work… yeah. I was both happy and relieved.

And also, he really did look that Cool.

I’d also been fairly certain that most of the people who saw him would have no idea who he was supposed to be, and I was sort of right; I’d say maybe half the people who gave him candy were very confused by this jumpsuited little boy. A few people actually asked who or what he was, but most who didn’t know just chuckled and pretended they totally knew who he was. One man said, “Oh, look at the little pop star! How cute!” But almost everyone who saw him, whether they were hip to DJ Lance or not, complimented me on his costume, particularly his boom box. One guy, so enamored with the boom box boy, actually stopped him as we were walking by him a second time on our way to the next street over, so that he could give him more candy.

Ethan informed me over his Kix this morning that next year he is going to be a clown for Halloween, and I’m thinking that perhaps he should be a boom box carrying clown, based on past success. Whatever he is, though, I know I said I wasn’t going to be making it for him. But given how much he loved the Lance costume, I don’t know that I have it in me to refuse him, should he ask me if he could dress as something that Target doesn’t carry, or costs more than $15. Now that it’s over, and the hard work is behind me, and I see how happy it made him, I’d probably be willing to go through the pain again. For him. You know, just like labor. The agony it caused me is already a dull memory.

Though feel free to refresh my memory with a teeth-kicking-in.


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3 11 2008
aliasmother

My mother used to make all of our costumes, even though I’m sure that, just like you, she swore every year that she never would again. But what I remember from it is feeling really special, much more special than the kids with the plastic masks bought at K-mart. For heavens sake, one year she made me a Kermit the Frog outfit entirely out of green felt with a gigantic papier-mache head (I had an eye slit through the open mouth). The thing took her weeks and I’m sure that by the end she was desperately papier-mache-ing herself a Happy Place in the backyard, but I loved that costume. Loved. It. As did everyone I encountered that Halloween. It ranks as one of my favorite childhood memories.

I guess I tell you this just to affirm what you already know: it is absolutely worth it.

But, you know, if next year you want to buy him the first costume you see at Target, I’ve got your back, too.

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