Halloween Holes

So Halloween has passed by once again. Are you all as sick as I am? Seriously, it can’t be healthy to eat that much chocolate in the course of 48 hours. (I did a little partaking in Halloween-eve eating)

While I was out trick o’ treating tonight I looked at all the kids’ costumes and I thought, “These kids have no imagination.” You see, when I was a kid I liked to come up with creative costumes, because why be something normal when you can instead be some sort of inanimate object? I really enjoyed being inanimate objects. I think it started when my mom dressed me up like a crayon when I was younger. Man was I adorable. Covered in felt from head to toe.

Then as I reached my teenage years I started to come up with my own inanimate object costumes. One year I was a laundry basket. I know, I know you wonder why you never came up with that, right? I took one of my mom’s laundry baskets, cut a hole in it and wore it around my waist. We stuffed it with dirty clothes and laundry detergent. I had fabric softeners clinging throughout my body. It was great fun. Not so great for my mom, who wondered why the hell I was cutting holes in her laundry basket. Ah, creative children.

Then the next year I was a table. This one didn’t involve destroying any of my mom’s household items, which was a step in the right direction. To be a table I cut a hole (holes seem to be a theme) in a big piece of cardboard and then put it over my head. The cardboard rested on my shoulders and was covered in a tablecloth as well as plates, cups and silverware. I painted my face like a fruit bowl and I was good to go. It was an awesome costume. The frustrating part was that people kept putting my candy in the cups that were on top of the table. If it was something I wanted to eat right away I nearly had to stand on my head to get the candy out of the cup and into my hand.

The last time I was an inanimate object was actually just a few years ago. We had a theme at work where we all dressed like a character from The Wizard of Oz. One lady was Dorothy, one was the Tin Man, one was Glenda, and so on and so forth. I was the House That Landed on the Bad Witch. I cut a hole (I can cut the hell out of a hole by now) in a cardboard box, painted it like a house and put it over my head. I also wore striped stockings and would sit down on the floor for the full effect of the costume, you know, the whole feet sticking out from under the house thing. Look, I worked in an accounting department, I had to find some way to amuse myself.

This year unfortunately I did not get to cut a hole in anything for my costume. However, being as though it was sewn together with the thinnest thread on the planet the holes actually still made their way into my outfit. Which was nice, for tradition’s sake.