I spent enough time working on the costume that Al wore to school today that I didn’t want to put a lot of time into the costume I would wear to work. I always dress up for Halloween (in the past 20-something years, I have been a magician, a jack-o-lantern, “Dr. Pepper,” Mr. Potato Head, a pig in a blanket, a candy inspector, and “Death by chocolate,” among others). But this year my costume consisted only of a mask.
As masks go, this one was fairly impressive. I had saved it from the storytelling program at the library two weeks ago (see my post “Storytelling with a twist”). The ears had shrunk a little, but for the most part it was in remarkably good shape for a bunch of balloons. Unfortunately, my co-workers simply couldn’t tell what it was.
“Hey, there’s a bat!” I heard someone comment as I went by. I didn’t see any bats around (there were quite a few vampires, however, and two covens of witches), so I could only conclude that someone thought I was a green bat. Most people thought I was a frog, though I also heard guesses of turtle, dinosaur, leprechaun, and Yoshi.
According to the storyteller who made the mask, I was a gremlin. Someone said gremlins don’t have teeth, but then someone kindly printed out a picture of a gremlin for me (to tape to my ID badge, with the words I AM A GREMLIN) so people knew what I was. And it had lots of teeth. (And very big ears, which unfortunately I did not, anymore.)
I don’t know if my son’s costume fared much better. The theme at school was outer space (he tells me there were lots of aliens in school today). He decided he wanted to be the Moon, and he didn’t like my idea of a two-dimensional moon worn sandwich-board style. He wanted to be 3D, so at some co-workers’ suggestion I bought chicken wire and made a papier-mache moon costume for him.
At least, that’s what it’s supposed to be. Chicken wire is harder to shape than I expected, even the thinnest gauge wire I could find. And I wanted it to cover his torso without being so wide he had to hold his arms out straight. The resulting shape would have made a good asteroid, but it takes some imagination to see it as the Moon. However, he didn’t want to be an asteroid, so I did my best to make craters to get across the idea.
I don’t know how well I did. When I dropped him off at school, the first person who saw him asked, “Are you a rock?” Well, I suppose in a sense the moon is a big rock…
Maybe if I start now, I can make a recognizable papier-mache turtle shell by next year. (I can take along a stuffed rabbit and be the Tortoise and the Hare.)