Here’s a mom’s description of the hilarious reactions her son’s Halloween costume provoked:
“We walk down the hall to where his classroom is. And that’s where things went wrong. Two mothers went wide-eyed and made faces as if they smelled decomp. And I realize that my son is seeing the same thing I am. So I say, “Doesn’t he look great?” And Mom A says in disgust, “Did he ask to be that?!” I say that he sure did as Halloween is the time of year that you can be whatever it is that you want to be. They continue with their nosy, probing questions as to how that was an option and didn’t I try to talk him out of it. Mom B mostly just stood there in shock and dismay. And then Mom C approaches. She had been in the main room, saw us walk in, and followed us down the hall to let me know her thoughts. And they were that I should never have ‘allowed’ this and thank God it wasn’t next year when he was in Kindergarten since I would have had to put my foot down and ‘forbidden’ it.”
Click here to see the little guy’s shocking shockingly cute outfit and the rest of the article. I empathize, because I loved dressing up as a cowboy when I was a litte* girl, complete with hat, plaid shirt and a little fringed leather vest and corresponding chaps. I don’t know whether it was because of the costume or despite of it, but I grew into a person who definitely tends towards the good old left side of the Kinsey scale.
*Some sources will even claim that I once wore a cowboy hat at the ripe old age of 20-ish, for going out. I can only say that it seemed like a good idea at the time. Except that the club I went to had some kind of promotion event where girls with very similar cowboy hats handed out free cigarettes. I was approached by many a young, hopeful person that night. Most were very cross with me when I claimed not to have any Marlboros, no, really. Just like that other time when I went to Oktoberfest in a dress that looked very much like the typical outfit of a Spaten waitress and had to tell people that no, I couldnt bring them a beer, over and over again. I seem to have a talent for picking the wrong outfit.