When I came home from work yesterday, I was in for a surprise. Before I had time to gather my surroundings, I was attacked by a troop of characters out of some old-time farce or a Comic-con Pirates of the Caribbean mixed with the Little Einsteins theme.
All of the minions had found the costume tote again. They looked expectant. They were, in fact, waiting. For some reason, I suspect Sarah but who knows, they wanted me to take their pictures. Here they all were, jumping on top of each other, acting as if they all had adverse reactions to red food dye, excited to show off their stuff. How could I resist? This is the stuff of blog posts.
This is the stuff of blog posts.
The Halloween costumes had been placed in the toy room from our small storage room about a week ago, and it was only a matter of time before the kids started wearing them again.
Sarah and I have amassed quite a collection of them through the years. People just give them to us and we store them (costumes, not kids). As you can guess, this collection of old costumes has become quite the treasure trove of fun for the kiddos and the brothers (“the brothers” is what their grandfather sometimes calls my nephews, Porter, Jaxton, and Forrest, because they do not have any sisters. Unless you count Sarahmay who is the closest thing that they have to a sister.)
The kids were dressed in a costume each. Looking at the photos, you will notice that Griffin is not in one. He was. Griffing had effectively stuffed himself into a monkey costume that is made for two-year-olds, but he found to his pain that one cannot get out of said costumes as easily as one enters them, especially in the rush of having to go to the bathroom.
Yes, I peeled him out of the monkey costume just as a monkey peels a banana. Not a pretty picture, not appropriate for the online community either.
Otherwise, he would have been in a costume with the rest of the little nerds.
For some reason, it used to bother me when the kids would play in the Halloween costumes. They would drag them out all over the house and not put them away, but this is a poor excuse for my discomfort. How was this any different from the rest of their toys?
I think that my major discomfort derived from my desire to somehow preserve the costumes. For what? Why would that be important? The costumes were designed for play and not for a box. What a world of imagination could any kid develop with unlimited access to dress-up clothes and costumes?
I’m afraid that I missed the point of almost all of it when in my exasperation, back then (the other day), I would threaten to throw them all away because I tripped over some article of play clothing. Let’s just say that I failed in those days, yet the box of costumes is still with us and there are many adventures still to be had.
And I’m glad that they are still into this kind of play. It is far better than the typical summertime activity of gloss-eyed video game playing or getting into fist fights with other children in the neighborhood. The costumes were always meant to be used and when they had served their purpose in their short stay at our house we will gladly pass the treasure trove of adventures on to the next house so that other dads can trip on the random articles of play clothing.