Halloween Hijinks

Around this time of year, I always break out in cold sweats and have dizzying panic attacks. No, it’s not the pollen count. It’s Halloween.

I blame this on – who else? – my mother. My childhood memory of Halloween goes thusly:

Me: Mom, What am I going to be for Halloween tomorrow?
Mom: Oh my, is it Halloween already? Well, I have just the perfect costume for you.

At that point she would trot me off to my closet to see what could be cobbled together at the eleventh hour. There were only two options:

a) Indian princess
b) Gypsy

So, invariably, I would come to school either in

a) the chanya chori I had already worn about 5 times that month at all the Navratri events, topped off with a Burger King crown
b) a bunch of chunnis haphazardly wrapped around my body and head, lugging a canteloupe wrapped in aluminum foil (my crystal ball, natch!)

Needless to say, I never won a single costume contest, and I blame my mom’s lack of preparedness and creativity on the reason I still can’t get a costume together for myself at Halloween. (People who know me are nodding knowingly right now…)

Of course, when it comes to my daughter, this behavior is unacceptable. But I am seriously nervous about getting her a costume. What should it be? How should I get it together? What if it doesn’t turn out right??

You may think I’m crazy. “How hard can it be? Just go to the Halloween superstore and pick out something that fits!” But last year it took me three trips to the store to put together her angel outfit. First I bought her the wrong type of headdress – she needed a halo, not a crown, duh! Then it was the wrong size outfit. Finally, I forgot the damn wand! I am just not good at making images materialize. Sentences and paragraphs, I’ve got covered.

This year is the first year my daughter will have a say in what she’s going to be. I’ve already carved out time next weekend for us to take her to a Halloween store and let her pick out her own costume. I’ll also have a brown paper bag with me to hyperventilate in, and my husband along for moral support. Hopefully it will be great and fun and she’ll pick the perfect costume that she’ll love and have a blast wearing.

Gypsy, however, is not an option.