Today, the local businesses opened their doors to all the costumed children and their money spending parents to practice up for Halloween. We dudded up the wee ones and took a stroll. Aunt Sarah was there to snap pics and help a police officer cross the street. I do it for the feedback; I can admit that. I usually make the kids costumes so this year was a bit humiliating (joking) in all store bought gear (with major exceptions on the little police guy).
I ran into a few friends, including one girlfriend who also has twins. We attend a twins mom support group. Her little girls were wearing matching blue princess dresses. They were so cute It was all I could do to restrain myself from saying, “Sell me those dresses after this Halloween.” The moms can get a bit frenzied buying hand-me-downs from each other. Especially as I have noticed a glut in twin girls my daughters’ size and a derth of twin girls in the size just above. You do the math, the resell value is, sheesh, let’s just say it’s a seller’s market right now at the Mother with Multiples Fun Club.
B and C’s best reaction was as we were finishing up our walk, a mother with her own children started yelling and jumping, “Oh, the twins! The twins! Look at the twin pumpkins!” Her friend told her that she was loud. We talked with them for a minute. And here I thought that pumpkin costumes were a cop-out. Well, Sandi, I owe you one.
I now know that every mom secretly hopes that her daughter will grow up and marry Winnie the Pooh. H was “Bad Winnie the Pooh” complete with mask and sword; sort of a Zorro of the 100 Acre Sherwood Forest. Every five feet some mom would direct her 4 year old daughter to H and say, “Honey, look, it’s Winnie the Pooh. Do you see Winnie the Pooh?” And without fail, every little girl would smile sweetly at H and look rapturous. It must be this sweet and docile affection that inspires mothers to this ambition, of having a the-Pooh for a son-in-law.
E was a police officer. He took it very seriously, but is incapable of intensity. He would make an admirable law enforcement officer, since he has no ego whatsoever about being tough, being right, or being in charge. He merely feels an obligation to serve. If our city were hiring kindergarten cops, like they apparently are doing now in CA, then he would be the most level headed guy with a badge in the US of A. He said “trick-or-treat” at every store as well as “thank you.”
D is ninja. This son of mine, now entering the highest-entertainment-value segment of his childhood, carried two shiny swords (which impressed not a few teenagers). He has his own ideas, which he executes and whoa betide the mother who steps in to undo his initiative, for she shall miss the show. D decided that in lieu of a mask, he would be hooded. D decided that carrying a goody bag was a dumb idea since Dad was pushing a stroller that had handles. So stroller carries the candy while D slinks in and out of cafes, bookshops and pizza places. I couldn’t restrain myself from narrating when shopkeeper after shopkeeper asked him, “Don’t you have a candy bag?” I had to say, “He’s a ninja,” or “Ninjas don’t carry candy bags,” or “He does have a candy bag, only you can’t see it.” My son was not trick or treating. He was on a mission to receive two candies in his hand and dodge out into the street without being detected.
Dad had a silly hat with a propeller on it.
I was a happy mom.
