Think you've got kooky ideas for Halloween costumes for your kids? Try mine.
Lori Curley: Each year at Halloween, I roll out my short list of "The Most Original Homemade Costumes Ever" and try to sell them to my kids. "Dirt. Who wants to be dirt? It's an easy one," I nudge my son. "Come on, you can wear your brown pants."
But as they are getting older, I am putting up with more rejection. They don't want to be amoebas or moths -- and they don't like the idea of celery, either.
A few years ago, I talked my son into being a weatherman. He wore a slicker with an ACCUWEATHER sign taped to his back and carried a microphone, but he refused to put a few leaves in his hair. He is a good kid, so I forgave him. Besides, he had earned credit the year he was Flat Stanley and let me put a stamp on his forehead.
The secret to my list comes from a long-held belief that we should be comfortable in our costumes. I believe this credo originated the year I watched my youngest brother disrobe house to house. He had started out as an overweight vampire, but as we walked and he became hotter and hotter, he began stuffing his costume into his candy bag, and by the tenth house, he wore only a shirt with fake blood and carried a pillow, fangs, and a wig. Since then, my costumes begin with: "What do you want to wear?" And proceed to "Hmm, what else has a red top and a khaki bottom? Who wants to be a buoy?"
My system depends on good signage. This means that after deciding what it is you are, you need to make a sign so there is no confusion. Sometimes an amoeba is mistaken for a paramecium -- and the year I was lint from the dryer, a few people thought I was a polluted snowflake.
|Lori Curley, champion mother of two middle-school teenagers, resides in South Orange, NJ. She holds a Masters in Education and has been teaching writing at the college level for 7 years. But can she find a job as a high school English teacher? Or will she pull her hair out first?|