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When mom goes for glam instead of gore

Submitted by on Friday, 29 October 2010 No Comment

Big Guy couldn’t conceal his disdain when he ripped open the package that had just landed on the front stoop.

“What’s this?” he asked in a tone usually reserved for finding dog poo on his shoes.

“It’s a candy-corn costume. I’m going to wear it this year.”

Candy corn?” He managed to sound even more disgusted. “No. You have to wear the pirate. Or the witch. But not this.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I’m tired of the pirate. I want something different.”

Different might have passed muster if different had been a zombie bride or vampira with blood dripping from her teeth or even a Mommy mummy. But for Mom to look girlish? Unacceptable.

I can understand his reaction. I spend 90 percent of my life in pajamas, sweats or T-shirts. Rarely do I wear makeup more than twice a week, though I do at least brush my hair. Most days.

And now I was springing the ultimate betrayal on him. Nothing creepy this Halloween. Instead I was breaking out in cute – a white, red and orange tank dress paired with orange tights.

“Fine,” he said. “But don’t come in my class looking like that.”

The wig that came with the costume – a yellow page boy with a layer of orange and topped by a furry white point – almost won him over. “Ooooh!” he grinned. “That’s stylish!” It made me wonder if he knows what that word really means.

Sadly, the wig wouldn’t fit over my shoulder-length hair no matter how hard I tried. Honestly, I did try even though I was not looking forward to the awful things that Day Glo yellow hair was going to do to my skin tone. “That’s all right,” Boots said, patting my arm. “You still look stylish.”

Ay, but Boots still is young enough the cute is, well, cute. Big Guy’s been rolling his eyes at unicorns and ponies for a year and a half.

Apparently, he’s not the only one. At their school’s Halloween parade this morning, kindergarteners of both genders greeted me with “Hi, Candy Corn!” In first grade, only a few boys responded. Second grade, it was all girls.

As for Big Guy, he did admit to knowing me when he saw me at the parade. He did, however, quickly avert his eyes. Oh, the shame of it.

Maybe next year we’ll try a bleeding candy corn or dismembered Raggedy Ann.

Copyright 2010 Debra Legg. All rights reserved.

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