Hiding Under the Covers

I have not always been a big fan of Halloween. The tombstones, the haunted houses, the scary movies, the gore and ghouls – it all sent me hiding under the covers when I was a kid (ok, sometimes it still does). Even the supposed “friendlier” costumes frightened me when I was little. Anything in disguise, but particularly clowns, sent me running. I suffered from what I have since learned is coulrophobia (irrational fear of clowns), and I still do not like those white-faced buffoons. In fact, I’m wearing this shirt right now.

Since I’ve had my children, however, Halloween has actually become one of my favorite holidays. I’ve learned to ignore the scarier parts and enjoy the fun of the friendlier side of the holiday: the costumery and the opportunity to be absolutely anyone you want, no matter how outrageous. Speaking of, have you seen the costumes marketed towards women and even teenage girls these days? I’m no prude, but I swear Halloween has become an excuse for girls to dress trashy. Ok, maybe I’m just jealous that I could no longer get away with wearing those costumes.

Anyway, every year my husband and I host what has come to be known as the Annual Halloween-ie Roast in our neighborhood. We grill out a few hours before the trick-or-treating begins and throughout the night, and afterwards we roast s’mores. We invite all of our neighbors, friends, and family, and everyone is encouraged to arrive in costume, adults included. It’s an absolute blast and our girls love seeing everyone all dressed up. Because, let’s face it, once the trick-or-treating begins, all they notice is the candy.

This year, at our daughters’ suggestion, my husband and I are partnering-up us Shrek and Fiona. My husband could not be happier about that selection, I think because it gives him an excuse to be gross. He has been practicing since September. Every night at the dinner table he will belch and say in his best Shrek voice, Better out than in I always say, eh Fiona?

My four-year-old originally wanted to be Jasmine this year, but she changed her mind when she remembered that Jasmine wears pants, albeit very flowy, pretty pants! No sir! She wanted a dress. She tried on the Pocahontas costume at the Disney Store and insisted that was the one. I protested mildly because I had noticed a pattern: in 2004 I was Snow White, in 2005 she was Snow White; in 2005 I was Pocahontas, now in 2006 she wanted to be Pocahontas. I was worried she was just copying Mama. Sure, imitation is the biggest compliment, but I wanted her to separate her choices from mine. Anyway, I should not have been so quick to believe she was just following in my footsteps because days later, I discovered the true reasoning behind her decision. I overheard her telling a playmate that she was going to be Pocahontas for Halloween. She proudly explained, You should feel the material of my dress. It is sooo soft. “Material”??? What four-year-old do you know says “material”??

My toddler’s costume choice was the most troubling however. She has decided to be JoJo from JoJo's Circus. That’s right. A clown. She clearly did not inherit my coulrophobia, for which I am glad, but c’mon. Does she want to torture me? As a loving mother, I of course pushed my my personal preferences aside and agreed. But what will I do if my very own daughter in her clown garb sends me back to hiding under the covers?