Halloween’s around the corner and the parties have already started. Facebook is full of adorable photos of little darlings all decked out as princesses or vampires or whatever superhero is cool this year. Little rosy cheeks, little sparkling eyes, every corner of the kid radiating costumed excitement.
Such photos, however, are conspicuously absent from this house.
Normally, Halloween costume selection is a three month event. Mean Mommy won’t allow any formal decision-making processes to begin before September 1, but that doesn’t mean little brains aren’t churning with ideas. The remainder of the fall is spent with nonstop back-and-forth mulling over costume choices–it’s a HUGE, LIFE-ALTERING DECISION when you’re four–followed by increasing (in quantity and in volume) demands about whenwhenwhenwhen can we go pick up the costume.
This year, things are different. Here we are just a couple days before Halloween, and although she’s said she wants to be Rapunzel, and she knows I’ve bought at least some of the costume parts, she hasn’t even asked to go shopping or try the stuff on. She says we “can go get it Monday after school.”
Yeah. There will absolutely be Rapunzel dresses on the racks at Target just two hours before trick-or-treating starts.
I’m not sure what’s brought all this on. I do know that this is not due to some sudden sweetness that causes her to no longer desire to nag, pester, or demand. I assure you.
But I’m stumped. Has she lost interest in dress-up clothes? Hopefully not, as I scored seven awesome costumes at a resale event and she is getting them for Christmas and is going to love them, darnit, and wear them every single day for the next six months until I get my money’s worth out of them.
It’s not that she’s not into Halloween, either. She loves her dreadful spooky CD (which mysteriously “disappeared” but was last seen in my hands). She convinced the Man to take her to a PG-13 creepy corn maze, where she was reduced to sobs after being chased by a guy with a chainsaw–but then five minutes later, from the safety of a mug of cider far from the maze, decided she loved it. She marvels at the seasonal decorations around the neighborhood and wishes she had parents awesome enough to put giant plastic inflatables on the lawn (she doesn’t) or invite all her friends to a sleepover to “listen to spooky music and just chill” (not happening).
And Halloween crafts: it’s all about drawing pumpkins and bookmarking every single spooky-themed craft and food in FamilyFun and making random Frankensteins out of cut-up scraps of junk mail. Then there was the whole make-your-own-actual-Egyptian-mummy thing, which has occupied our conversation for weeks.
Costumes, apparently, are not as important as mummification. By the way, she plans to dig up their remains this weekend to see whether they’ve gone on to the afterlife yet. Rest in peace, anyone?
Personally, I think the costume question has fallen victim to complete and utter procrastination. Which is usually not fun for mom, but this time around, it will be VERY fun for mom.
See, I bought the Rapunzel dress a month ago. But she doesn’t know that. So, as per her request, we will head to Target on Monday afternoon, and I will watch with amusement as she dissolves into paroxysms of grief when she sees that all that’s left on the rack is Captain America. In size XL.
Then, I will whip out the costume and bask in the glory of Awesome Mommy and Best Mommy in the World, and by the way, I told you so.
Tricky treat, indeed.