I started asking a couple of months, ago.
Sometimes, she would say something odd:
“Ironman!” (though she’d never seen the movie).
“A sharoolannan!” (one of the many words she’s made up).
But over and over, no matter who asked, she would respond with one thing:
I’m going to be a rainbow for Halloween!
And so she was.
As costumes go, it was actually quite easy to construct, only complicated by the fact that I left it until the very last minute to begin making it. The rainbow is hand-cut and tempura-painted foam board that are attached to rainbow suspenders. She’s wearing clothing and socks she already had, most of which was a gift last Christmas. A piece of yellow foam board (from the 99-cents store) was attached with masking tape to a yellow headband that she already had. People kept running into it and it broke in half while we trick-or-treated.
Now certainly the final result is nowhere near as cool as kid Robocop. But if Lyra had seen Robocop on Halloween, she’d probably have burst into tears. Just as she did whenever we saw a boy dressed like Ironman, or anyone wearing a mask of any kind.
This year she was far more terrified than she had been in the past. And an adult with a ghoulish mask almost brought our trick-or-treating to a close before we could get past the second house. I promise to pay the therapy bill, because I am going admit that her fear had me laughing until tears streamed down my face. See the end of this video for evidence:
[Or click this link to view it because I can’t seem to get it to imbed on this page]
It’s not that I wasn’t sympathetic; in fact, I was truly empathetic. I was once the kid who was terrified by everything. My imagination was too easily triggered and it didn’t take too much horror imagery to send me reeling into nightmares for months (years?). I was in high school before I ventured into my first haunted house. I avoided Disney’s Haunted Mansion like the plague.
But, I did eventually get over it. Kind of. Some adults on our trick-or-treat outing may/may-not have witnessed my walking nervously away from a teenage boy dressed as Leatherface. I may have reeatedly chanted, “Not a fan! Not a fan! Not a fan!” The burst of anxiety may have made my eyes mist. Or it may have been allergies. I’m not admitting to it either way. But if you were there, you just might have seen that.
I’m certain that someday a three-foot-high ghost costume will seem cute to my girl and she will find this video of her running away in fear to be downright hilarious. Until then, please don’t tell her that her momma was so insensitive as to put together a photographic and video compilation of the event and post it on internet? Deal?