Growing up Halloween was a holiday I enjoyed but did not get to fully celebrate. We lived in a very low income apartment complex and my folks didn’t feel it was safe to trick-or-treat there. I do have fond memories of going to Harry Stone Recreation Center where they had a scary haunted house and free carnival games that allowed you to “win” candy. It was a short span of time, though, where Halloween for me was both cool and scary. Church Halloween functions were mostly lame because some felt the holiday was Satanic. Fast forward through my adulthood until I had a baby. She was not even two weeks old and I remember dressing her up as a cat. I had the onesie, the tiny socks, and the knit hat. “Look! You’re a kitty!” I exclaimed to her in the nursery … and she cried. The next Halloween she just turned one and I really wanted us all to dress in a family theme. Since we have wolf-hybrids it seemed obvious. Our baby was Little Red Riding Hood, I was the wolf, and poor Daddy was left to be the Grandma. I’m not gonna lie — it was HILARIOUS! The next year I managed to finagle him into going as “The Crazy Cat Lady” in the same hot pink, fleece ladies’ housecoat he used when he was Grandma. Only this time he had cats coming out of his “nightgown” and hanging off his head, which was a surprisingly convincing wig full of hot pink rollers. That year I laughed so hard I actually wet my pants a little. Well, my very strait-laced, conservative husband had enough. I scarred him so badly he refused to even dress at all the next year! Our little one was the French girl Madeline from the classic book series and I hoped Daddy would be the nun, Miss Clavel. I intended to be the tiger: “To the tiger in the zoo, Madeline just said, “Pooh-pooh.” But the hubs completely rebelled. So I wound up going as the Head of School, Miss Clavel. Visiting my ailing mother at the nursing home was a surprise; the very elderly there looked unnerved, as if I were there to read them their last rites. I just wanted Mama to see Maris’ costume. She was a perfect red-haired French school girl even complete with her dog Genevieve. The next year I got Burk back on board with the family theme by letting him dress in a profession he has always loved — an airplane captain. I was a flight attendant and our little girl went as a mirror image of Shirley Temple. I put her in a blue and white sailor suit and handed her a giant (very fake) lollipop. It was amazing, wherever we went people recognized her! It transcended age, gender, and race. I tried showing her a video of the song, “On the Good Ship Lollipop” to explain to her “Bright Eyes” was back in 1934. I learned it wasn’t a ship at all; rather it was an airplane, hence our flight uniforms. Burk cut such a dashing figure the next year he agreed to be a ship’s captain, while our child of the sea made a STUNNING “Little Mermaid.” I went as just a generic one. The next year my little French girl went as Belle from “Beauty and the Beast.” Daddy got to be the beast, of course, and I went as the “enchanted rose” in all black, literally holding a replica of the glowing rose that floats suspended in midair underneath the glass dome. This year I thought my poor husband should go as something HE wanted to be. So, knowing his love for the “high strange” I bought him a very convincing Big Foot costume. Our little one wants to be a veterinarian so I got her scrubs, a dog and cat themed surgical mask, a doctor’s cap, and a lab coat that read “Animal Hospital” on the back complete with clear pouch to show her identification. I went as the “office cat” that lives at the vet’s and hangs out to greet other animals. The family tie-in? The very elusive Big Foot decided to come out of the woods seeking medical help for his hurt toe. (Note the bandage in the pic.) Since our little girl is not sure if she only wants to stick with domesticated animals or branch out into wildlife; it was a fit. (Wink) This was our second year going to the Boo Bash and my husband was scaring the spit out of every young woman working there. I could tell when he lumbered by because some girl with a tray full of drinks would jump and shriek. I finally ordered him to take off the mask — imagine what it could do to the children! Mary Kay Ash was a tremendously successful businesswoman from Texas who lived in Dallas to the age of 83. I love what she once said: “Pretend that every single person you meet has a sign around his or her neck that says, ‘Make me feel important.’ Not only will you succeed in sales, you will succeed in life.” I grew up watching wealthy people make assumptions about me and my family. Either we couldn’t really be that smart, or cultured, or we must somehow be “lower class.” What I was delighted with is that we had been members of our own country club for a year now. I didn’t want to join to feel important; I did want to join to feel as if I belonged. I like dressing up and didn’t mind we were one of the few families to do so. Life is short and it is precious. I am thankful to have a sweet husband who will generally go along with our family-themed dress-ups. More importantly, I am proud to have a child who ran into the arms of the Head Chef because he remembered to make her something gluten-free. While others were throwing around names and trying to impress, we spent our time mostly talking to the help. I am not only more comfortable with them; I know what it is like to grow up feeling “less than” for no reason at all. The legacy I hope to leave my daughter is that everyone is important — and they should be made to feel that way. My tenderhearted child will make an excellent veterinarian if she chooses to stay with it, because she recognizes the value in all of God’s creatures. And there was certainly a mix present this Halloween at the Boo Bash.
