My sister used to dress me.
Not all the time, just for Halloween. I was her big Ken doll and she took great pride in her costumes for me. Granted the costumes were simple, out-of-the-closet (stop snickering) ready mades like a Pirate, or a Chef or a Cop. Nothing elaborate. But she would unquestioningly dress me up in whatever was around and whatever she thought was fun. I had no say in the matter.
One year I rebelled. I demanded that I was to be a mummy. I have no clue where I got this idea, but I do remember insisting so much that the dark clouds of tantrums were building on the horizon. My sister thought about it for a moment and then started a test run on my arm, which we ran out of cloth midway. Apparently you needed more than one twin bed sheet to cover a kid in 2″ strips head to toe. I stood firm on my decision and she turned to the only readily available supply we had in the house: toilet paper.
She started to roll somewhere inside an hour of when I was suppose to go out. Within 30 minutes she had done my arms and legs. She was smart: she made me dress in a white t-shirt and pants to shorten the long task of covering me, but it still took a long time. I’d fidget, the paper would tear, it wouldn’t stay where it should…
She never got me entirely covered. I looked more like a chubby kid with toilet paper on my head, forearms, legs.
I remember many people not knowing what I was: Genie? Accident Victim? Snow flake? Q-tip?!?
I think that was the last time she ever tried. From then on it was store bought onesies with the tongue cutting thin plastic masks. Love her dearly for trying, though!
3 thoughts on “Formative Pop – Halloween Story #1”
I loved “borrowing” my sister’s princess mask… until I broke the elastic
I don’t know what made me laugh more “out-of-the-closet” or the things she dressed you as!
I always had a fascination as dressing up as the devil which invloved a red tracksuit, plastic cape and horned headband. As a kid I used to think it was a crappy costume, now I’m actually pretty certain its exactly what the devil would wear.
And those plastic masks – they were hell. I was usually too afraid to put my face anywhere near them for fear it may never look the same again afterwards.
Haha, I wish there were pictures of this.
Ew those plastic masks hurt just thinking about. The elastic band would always snap and smack you in the face, then the little staple holding it in would poke you, then you slice a finger off on the edge. Terrible.