How to traumatize your child in three easy steps
Last week I sent a Halloween picture to one of my friends to make his work day just that much brighter. This wasn’t a celebrity Halloween picture with Paris Hilton all whore-d out, either. Nope, it was a childhood picture of me on Halloween circa long ass time ago.
After leaving me a long voice mail, punctuated with loud laughter and a mocking tone, my friend proceeded to tell me how much he enjoyed the picture. Something I’m sure I won’t regret sending him, because I’m sure he would never use it for evil purposes. Oh, I suppose I should mention that I was dressed as The INCREDIBLE Hulk in said picture. And that I was a fragile little girl of four, who spent most of that Halloween night crying because I wanted to be something, you know, less man-ish. And less dorky. My mom was w-e-i-r-d for coming up with this costume, and a bit sadistic for making me wear it.
But it made me think of my other Halloween costumes over the years and how the weird factor never really went away. Sigh. What I will do for free candy. Anyways, I decided I should type up a list of the bizarre-o costumes I have worn.
Age 2: I was a mouse. Sounds cute, yes? My mom decided that my brother, sister, and I should have a theme going on and we all were mice. Cuter now, yes? My sister had a grey snowsuit, so my mom just put some mice ears on her (not real ones. Derh. Those would be too small.) and painted her face. Unfortunately, I did not own a grey snow suit, so my mom improvised and I just had to wear some overalls. I don’t really see too many mice wearing flowery overalls, but oh well. My mom was happy.
Age 3: A gypsy. I was a gypsy! I had a long, curly wig and I was a gypsy. At the age of 3! I don’t know why this freaks me out a bit, but it does.
Age 4: This was the infamous Incredible Hulk year. If I’m in a generous mood someday, I might post that picture.
Age 5: My father took pity on me that year after the debacle the year before, and I got to be something normal. I was a witch.
Age 6: A fairy. Like as in Cinderella had a fairy godmother, not as in a man who owns an “Orleans” album. And only one person is going to get that joke. And yes, one person, I do know that you are straight.
Age 7: Bumble-bee. Awww. Cute, cute, cute. A little bee.
Age 8: Fairy again. My family was not well-off and my mom was all about the recycled costume.
Age 9: Bee. Again. Not so cute this time around.
Age 10: I was a pig. Besides me gorging myself on Milky Ways and Lemonheads, I mean I was dressed as a pig. Thought of that costume all by myself.
After that it becomes a blur, suggesting that perhaps I stopped dressing up for a while. I know that I went as my father one year when I was in high school. This is what happens when you don’t plan ahead, and your friends come (in costume) to pick you up and you don’t want to look a moron or a party-pooper at the Halloween party by not dressing up, so you quickly raid your father’s closet, and spend the rest of the night explaining to everyone what your costume is and ignoring the “God, you’re a moron,” looks, while promising yourself to never be so unprepared again. Happens to the best of us. I also got lazy for many a’ year in a row and went as a fifties girl. Generic, yes? A few years ago, I was Annette Funicello (from the Mouseketeer years, not the Frankie and Annette years) and last year I went as Devil in a Blue Dress. All sorts of clever, aren’t I?
And thus ends my Halloween summary.
After leaving me a long voice mail, punctuated with loud laughter and a mocking tone, my friend proceeded to tell me how much he enjoyed the picture. Something I’m sure I won’t regret sending him, because I’m sure he would never use it for evil purposes. Oh, I suppose I should mention that I was dressed as The INCREDIBLE Hulk in said picture. And that I was a fragile little girl of four, who spent most of that Halloween night crying because I wanted to be something, you know, less man-ish. And less dorky. My mom was w-e-i-r-d for coming up with this costume, and a bit sadistic for making me wear it.
But it made me think of my other Halloween costumes over the years and how the weird factor never really went away. Sigh. What I will do for free candy. Anyways, I decided I should type up a list of the bizarre-o costumes I have worn.
Age 2: I was a mouse. Sounds cute, yes? My mom decided that my brother, sister, and I should have a theme going on and we all were mice. Cuter now, yes? My sister had a grey snowsuit, so my mom just put some mice ears on her (not real ones. Derh. Those would be too small.) and painted her face. Unfortunately, I did not own a grey snow suit, so my mom improvised and I just had to wear some overalls. I don’t really see too many mice wearing flowery overalls, but oh well. My mom was happy.
Age 3: A gypsy. I was a gypsy! I had a long, curly wig and I was a gypsy. At the age of 3! I don’t know why this freaks me out a bit, but it does.
Age 4: This was the infamous Incredible Hulk year. If I’m in a generous mood someday, I might post that picture.
Age 5: My father took pity on me that year after the debacle the year before, and I got to be something normal. I was a witch.
Age 6: A fairy. Like as in Cinderella had a fairy godmother, not as in a man who owns an “Orleans” album. And only one person is going to get that joke. And yes, one person, I do know that you are straight.
Age 7: Bumble-bee. Awww. Cute, cute, cute. A little bee.
Age 8: Fairy again. My family was not well-off and my mom was all about the recycled costume.
Age 9: Bee. Again. Not so cute this time around.
Age 10: I was a pig. Besides me gorging myself on Milky Ways and Lemonheads, I mean I was dressed as a pig. Thought of that costume all by myself.
After that it becomes a blur, suggesting that perhaps I stopped dressing up for a while. I know that I went as my father one year when I was in high school. This is what happens when you don’t plan ahead, and your friends come (in costume) to pick you up and you don’t want to look a moron or a party-pooper at the Halloween party by not dressing up, so you quickly raid your father’s closet, and spend the rest of the night explaining to everyone what your costume is and ignoring the “God, you’re a moron,” looks, while promising yourself to never be so unprepared again. Happens to the best of us. I also got lazy for many a’ year in a row and went as a fifties girl. Generic, yes? A few years ago, I was Annette Funicello (from the Mouseketeer years, not the Frankie and Annette years) and last year I went as Devil in a Blue Dress. All sorts of clever, aren’t I?
And thus ends my Halloween summary.
posted by Ace | 8:22 AM
9 Comments:
My mom forced me to be a banker one year for Halloween. I wore a suit.
I'm going to have to demand that the Hulk picture is put on the site.
Your demand is duly noted. And mocked.
This year I dressed up as Elvis, I won most creative costume. I was the only King in Pocatello.
And the King lives on in Pocatello. See, there are some reasons I miss that place. Were you, uh, *young* Elvis, or *older* Elvis?
Let's be more blunt: skinny Elvis of Fat Elvis?
My two brothers and I had to go as the Three Stooges one year. I (the female) was Curly. I haven't quite forgiven my parents yet.
I like to think of myself as the coming of age Elvis, the sexy Elvis.
I'll make everyone a deal: if everyone sends me their Halloween pictures (including the banker (???), Curly, and, of course, the coming-of-age Elvis) I will gladly post my Hulk picture. Who's in?
Post a Comment
<< Home