Several weeks ago, the children’s school sent a notice out on their app that children could wear Halloween costumes to school on October 27, 28 or October 30–depending on what days they attend in-person. My children were scheduled to attend on the 27, so I marked it in my planner…and then set about buying them their costumes. I let Bridget pick out her outfit from an expensive boutique online. Scrolling through the frippery, the numerous tulle massacres–she briefly wavered on what to be…but the sway of dressing as Elsa was too much for my 7 year old, despite her tastes normally veering towards strangeness, the odd. Another one bites the dust. (Ice?) I ordered her outfit and moved onto Rowan. Rowan decided he would like to be Anna from Frozen, since his sister was being Elsa. I asked if he might like to be Kristof instead, but no. I have no issue with Rowan exploring that side of himself–but both my ex & I were concerned about the Other Children being mean. We decided to offer other suggestions, but if his heart was set on Anna to let him be Anna. As I scrolled through the options, Rowan gasped. What could have caught his fancy? “What, buddy? What could have made you gasp like a Southern belle clutching her pearls? What has so captivated your lovely cross-dressing eyes?” He pointed at a hot dog costume. “That, mom-mom. I want to be that.” *Shrugs* Okaaaaay.
Hot Dog & Elsa…I”m sure you can figure out which is which.
So it occurs to me that I now have to maneuver…THIS…into a coat. The coat wouldn’t stay up on his shoulder unless I zipped it. Unfortunately…it left us with a slightly disturbing visual.
Um…I should have left the jacket unzipped. Definitely should have left the jacket unzipped. There’s something just inherently…pervy about it…but that doesn’t stop me from texting these pictures to his aunt & grandfather & numerous friends of mine. I am the reason my kid is going to get made fun of. The bus pulls up and the kids get on, I hear a couple other children laugh at the sight of Rowan’s silly costume and it makes me smile. Ah, a great first memory of Halloween at school for him–his classmates dig his Halloweiner.
I go to work and don’t think much more about it…till lunchtime, when I check my facebook. I see the school has posted that children may wear costumes on the 28, 29, 30 of October. Wait. What. It’s the 27. I panic. Did I send my kid dressed like the Oscar Meyer fucking Weiner on the wrong day? Ohnononononono, NO. Is THAT why the kids on the bus were laughing? Christ. I text my former sister in law who texts me some not very sympathetic emojis and tells me, “Welp, text me later and let me know how it goes.” Gee, thanks.
We ask the kids when they get home if other kids were dressed in costumes. We get the answer, “Meh, a few.” Bridget throws a tantrum that people laughed at Rowan’s costume but not hers. I want to say, “Did you want them to? Then you should’ve dressed up like Rowan did-as a delicious tube of pig lips & assholes with the works on top–instead of some insipid Disney princess.” Instead I just hug her. Later I sign onto the classroom app to see that Rowan won the costume contest-so the fb post must have had the wrong dates! No dipshit mother here.
I excitedly tell my ex to look on ClassDojo because Rowan won! He studies it for a minute then says, “uh, did you see the other pictures on here? What is our kid doing? Why is he on the floor?” Wait…what? I am greeted by the following inexplicable image:
I call Rowan over and ask him what in the name of Ballpark franks he is doing on the floor. He says casually as can be, “Just pooping on my class.” I bust out laughing. “Did you tell your teacher?” “No. Just pretended in my head.” Maybe I don’t need to worry about kids being mean to him as much as I think I do.
After all…he was just poopin’…you know how he be.