My sewing is the most frightening
October 2, 2007
My son seems to be under the mistaken impression that I am a seamstress. I have tried to shake him of this illusion to no avail.
A week ago at dinner while we were discussing Halloween costumes, he asked if he could make his own.
And my “he” we all know he meant “me.”
Before I could swallow and burst forth with, “Oh, hell no!” my husband said, “That is a great idea! Of course you can make your own costume.”
And by “you” we all know he meant “me”
So for the past week my son has been frantically sketching out costume ideas and bringing them to me for my sewing approval.
My usual vetoes of Halloween costumes depicting hookers, pimps, serial killers, and overly frightening things, has had new items added to it. Thus far I have overruled costumes which required:
Walking on 5 ft tall stilts.
Carrying large frames made of plywood.
Wearing things that would prevent him from fitting through doorways, though I did offer him the option of wearing his spaceship costume solely in the dining room and limiting his trick or treating to the various dining room chairs. Lest you think I am totally squelching all of his ideas with my iron fist.
Required me to weld metal parts together.
Finally he came up with an idea and sketched it out. We looked at it and I was just about to say I thought it would be fine when my 6 yr old sidled up behind us.
“You want to be a green Teletubbie?” my 6 yr old asked.
Yes, it is back to the drawing board.
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