Each year the kids' school puts on a Halloween party complete with tasty food, sweet treats, a dj, a haunted house, pumpkin contest, games, crafts, and a costume contest. Last year my little stinkers took home first prize for the best group contest. You may remember me posting the pics...
I knew that there was pretty much no way we could do better than those costumes from last year so the pressure was off. This year the kids just dug through our huge bucket of costumes and picked out something that suited them.
Grace ended up being Belle (and really, she did look so much like Belle. I wish I would have gotten a good shot of her hair all done up in a bun with curls coming down- she was THRILLED), Ben was Harry Potter (even though there were three other Harry Potters at the party and some of them with authentic ties and scarves and cloaks, ah well- Ben was the only one with the SCAR!), Tommy went as a creepy ghost, and Joe went as Jason (even though he has never seen the movies).
Joey had planned on going as a bumblebee as a joke. He put on this bumblebee costume (toddler sized) and it made us laugh so hard. He was really excited to wear it until he told his friends at school about it and they didn't really get it. Dang. I still got a couple of funny pics of him in the costume, though. Possible blackmail?
Of course I had to dress up because I am a gigantic nerd and I love Halloween. This year I decided to pick a costume that would be a bit like therapy for me.
When I was a kid my mom made me wear a clown costume (it was my brother's hand me down) on Halloween for approximately 4 years in a row until my bff stepped in and offered me one of her extra costumes. I hated that clown costume. Mostly because I was terrified of clowns and it seemed like a cruel joke to make me dress up as one.
I hate clowns. I mean hate. There are very few things I am afraid of and clowns are definitely on that short list. I am terrified of clowns.
It started in Kindergarten when Ronald McDonald came to visit our class. He was enormously tall and I was sitting on the floor in the front row. He kept bending down putting his makeup caked face right in my face and talking to me. He smelled like sausage. And looking back now I think he was drunk. He kept saying things that didn't make sense ("Promise me, kids, that when you are old enough to drive and you see a yellow light you will SLOW DOWN!!!"). Even the teachers were looking at each other wondering what he was doing. He scared the crap out of me and thus began my fear of clowns.
Stephen King did not help my fear either, if it needs to be said.
So, anyway, I decided to dress up as a clown this year and see if that would have any affect on my silly fear of clowns.
Nope. No affect. As a matter of fact, as I was putting on my makeup I was trying to make it more cutsey and yet every time I stood back and took a look I thought, "Nope. Still creepy." Ugh. Stupid clowns. Stupid costume.
Despite our less than thrilling costumes we still managed to have a good time at the party. Joey disappeared to hang with his friends and Tommy, Ben, and Grace made approximately eighteen thousand crafts for me to carry home. The kids stuffed their faces with spookey treats, screamed through the haunted house, danced up a storm, and ran around after their friends.