I'm a slave to my kid's Halloween costume, and it's my own damned fault!

My 11-year-old son’s school’s “fall festival” (we can’t celebrate that satanic travesty known as Halloween, no sir!) is tomorrow, and it’s now about 11:30 p.m. and I’m STILL working on his costume!

When I was a kid, my mom made us fabulous, creative costumes. When I was maybe 4 or so, I accompanied my older sister to her Catholic school Halloween party. We went as Mortal and Venial Sin. The nuns loved it. We won a prize.

Anywhistle, since he’s been old enough to go out trick-or-treating, I’ve made his costumes. The past few years, it’s all about video gamees. Last year he was Luigi.

This year, he chose to be Riku. When he showed me the image, I said, “I’ll handle the costume if you’ll take care of developing those biceps!”

So, even as I’m whining, I’m thinking that there may be one or two years more of this, at most, and then he’ll be a too-cool middle schooler and want none of it.

When it’s done, I’ll post a picture of him. It cracks me up and touches me at the same time to watch him become the character. Clearly, the image he sees in the mirror somehow meshes perfectly with the image in his head.

Now you, are a cool mom!

I think you might not want to get your hopes up too high about him becoming too cool for this soon. The trick or treat thing, maybe, but not necessarily. My 17 year old became a Pixie Stick this year. And a couple years ago she was Boo(Monsters, Inc.). The good thing is, she does her own costumes. The better thing is that she’s using the purple sweats from Boo to do this year’s costume. I love it. I get off easy.