Elizabeth Atkinson

…we’ve all suffered them as children. But it’s even worse as a parent when you’ve put so much effort and expectation into the big day and it tanks.

Our first major costume failure occurred when our daughter, M, was four years old. Just as my New England mom had raised us, I insisted (from the get-go) that our kids create their own costumes from bits and pieces around the house, and not cop-out with those bland store-bought versions.

Apparently, they didn’t get that memo in the South.

It was our first holiday living in Atlanta, Georgia and we were really looking forward to a Halloween where you didn’t have to wear long underwear and a ski jacket over your costume. 

M decided she would be a good old fashioned witch, however – true to her colorful nature – a very glamorous witch.  She wore a black skirt of mine that fell to her ankles, along with a black top, black witch’s hat, some black gauzy lace, and lots of fashionable witchy-like accessories including a fabulous chain belt left over from my 20’s.

The morning of the great Halloween parade I dropped off a very happy witch at her little pre-school down the road. Who would have guessed that within two hours I would watch the most furious witch on the planet drag her tiny black feet around the circular driveway with the rest of her class?

Why?

Because every child (no exaggeration, every single kid) wore a store-bought Power Rangers costume.  The girls wore the pink version; the boys wore the other colors.

And if my petite witch had truly possessed magical powers that morning, she would have vaporized her loser mother with one evil glare.

I have to say, I was very proud that M didn’t suffer a melt-down and refuse to participate. In fact, not only did she march with her class – she was fully in character!

Needless to say, the following year we purchased an elaborate size 5 “Jasmine” ensemble in Orlando . . . and shortly after moved back North J