The saga of choosing Halloween costumes continues. For weeks, BJ had been saying he wanted to be an angel for Halloween. (He also said he wants to eat a candy cane while being an angel. Think we have some holiday confusion going on here.) So I took advantage of my mom's superior sewing abilities to make a white tunic while they were here visiting.
Unfortunately, BJ took one look at the tunic, and he started howling, "No Ghost! No Ghost! Ghost is Not So Good!!!"
After investing the time and money to make the tunic, not to mention already purchasing wings, a halo, and a silver belt to complete the outfit, I wasn't about to give up on the costume. So I started a serious propaganda onslaught.
Spearheading this campaign is a story written by yours truly, called Counting Angels. For some time, I'd been kicking around this children's book idea, alliterative and rhyming of course. I looked at the draft I had, and added stanzas for zero and ten. (Because according to BJ all counting books must include zero and ten. If it doesn't, he will add it. Literally. He will insist on keeping the puzzle pieces for zero and ten with the book while we read it.) With these alterations, in spite of its rough draft status, I decided it was good enough to use in my attempt to salvage the angel costume. I put together a mock-up on construction paper -- and do you have any idea hard it is to draw athletic angels? Good lord, what was I thinking? -- and ended up doing a late-night glitter glue run to finish the thing.
Anyway, BJ likes it, and we've made considerable progress. He's not yet consented to try on the angel costume (I've not pushed, because I don't want to fight an outright no) but we've talked about it and he seems excited again.
Next step: BB's costume. She's going to be a Devil baby, naturally.
Some friends were talking about family costumes. And I wondered.... if my son is an angel and my daughter is a devil.... what does that make me?
Or merely Everywoman, and they're the classic conscience opposites, each sitting on my shoulder?
Or perhaps S could be God (he's already got the beard) and this could be my opportunity to dress up as Lilith, something that has significant symbolic appeal. Hmmm. (She says, ducking a bit in anticipation of an incoming lightning strike......)