- Miles: ghost
- Felix: [insert unidentifiable qualifier that sounds like "chingerstwashion"] train
Ghost--easy, right? Take some scissors to a white sheet--bam, done. Sure, in cartoons it seems like those sheets with 2 holes are the poor man's solution to the perfect costume. But let's think this through--how easily do you think a sheet with 2 eye holes is going to stay on an active 4-year-old boy? And I imagine that after 2.5 seconds he'll rip it off. And then I have to establish a 2nd costume for the under-the-sheet reveal. Or constantly replace/straighten the sheet. (Although, if we did an 80s exercise ghost, I could use a sweat band around his head...)
[????] train---not so easy, right? And truth be told, I don't have time to convert an Amazon box into a diesel engine with straps. Just not this year. Also, I see some of the ghost costume limitations: I know that in about 2.5 seconds Felix will want the box off. Sure, I could dress him as a conductor, but then who gets to hold the awkward box during Halloween parties or trick-or-treating? Yeah, I'm not interested. I'll already be cherry picking the best candy in their bags to put into the parents' private stash (I kid, I kid).
So what does a mom do? She starts sending subliminal messages over a few weeks about the costumes she wants them to wear starting the moment they express interest in Halloween costumes.
"Miles, you know that superheros run REALLY fast?"
"Let's have a superhero race!"
"Miles, your shoes look like Super Why's shoes."
"Felix, wouldn't it be fun to go up into space as an astronaut like Curious George?"
"Hey, let's pretend we are astronauts and jump off the bed into 'space pillows'."
"Boys, it's time to make space pudding!" (Put homemade pudding in a plastic sammy bag, tie up 3 ends, and cut the tip of the 4th. It squirts out like a frosting bag/toothpaste. Growing up, my mom called it space pudding.)
Low and behold, Miles suggested being a superhero one moment. I took that and exploited it for all it was worth. Now, with the help of Etsy, he's set. And with Felix, it was a little more direct--I finally asked him if he wanted to wear Miles's astronaut costume and blast off into space. He said, "yeah. I want to be a scary astronaut." The price is right (free), and we'll just work on our scary face.
Okay, before you start nominating me for the mom who crushed her children's dreams, please know this is coming from a space of trying to avoid any extra crazy/work/anxiety for our family during this exceptionally busy fall. If either of the boys pitched a fit or didn't display an ounce of interest in the costume ideas I planted into their noggins, I wouldn't push them. Next year I have a sense that resistance could rear its ugly head...but at that point they are holding their own handmade train box and figuring out how to put back on their ghost sheet the umpteenth time it falls off.
This year? The fight is just not in me. #pathofleastresistence