September, 2014

When Just a Double Take Won't Do, There's Always, "Wait—Whut?"

Three words that make parents across the country wince: In-service Day. In our district, every first and third Wednesday of the month school lets out at noon; teachers get special training or seminars or just a meeting with upper management.

School had only been in session a couple of weeks when the first early release day hit. I have more flexibility than a lot of parents do, so I often have two or three tag-alongs with me. This time, I had four: Lindsay Gallager (who was evolving from an acting-out little monster to a decent kid (despite her parents), Melody Troutman, Kim Lincoln and Terry Whittaker. Safely ensconced in the back seats, the girls were chattering about the upcoming social event of the season: Halloween.

"I'm going to be Elsa!" With her fair hair, Kimmy was a natural. I knew the costume would be store bought—her mother, whose lack of baking skills created an interesting disaster the prior winter, was just as un-blessed with sewing skills. Did it matter? Not one bit. She turned to Lexi. "What are you gonna be?"

"I don't know," Lexi said, with all the drama and pathos she could shove into one word.

"What were you last year?" Melody asked.

"I was a dragon. A Chinese New Year's dragon." (Took us months to make. Thank heavens for creative aunts and uncles in the extended family.)

Kimmy and Lindsay had known Lexi since preschool (Mel and Terry were new to the school this year) and looked at each other in confusion. "No you weren't," Lindsay corrected (but doing so politely). "You were the girl from the Addams Family. I remember."

Kimmy nodded. "Mrs. Thompson hated the doll." (Adele Thompson was the room mother for the other kindergarten class and the organizer of the school costume parade. The headless doll Lexi had found at a yard sale had sparked the whole Wednesday Addams costume, but it had also freaked out a lot of people.)

Lexi rolled her eyes. "I thought you meant for trick or treating." (The important part of the day.) "Yeah, that was easier to wear at school. This year I just wanna do one." (As mommy sends a silent 'thank god' into the cosmos.)

"Don't worry. We'll think of somethin'." Kimmy has definitely inherited her mom's 'can do' spirit.

"I'm going as Mulan," Melody offered.

"Cool! Sissy Mulan or kick ass Mulan?"

Before I could scold Lindsay for her language, Melody chirped, "Kick ass!" so I let it drop. "What about you? What are you?"

Lindsay grinned. "I'm gonna be a crazy cat lady." She had been working all summer on the costume. Every weekend that she got to sleep over, we would raid the yard sales and thrift stores for small stuffed cats. Mother had donated a battered plaid robe to the cause; we had sewn cats to the shoulders, stuffed them in the pockets and loaded up a basket with them, then bought a gray wig and decorated it with curlers and a headscarf. Gaudy glasses on a beaded chain and cat face slippers completed the costume. If you're going to be a stereotype, be a good one.

Melody looked confused. "How do you do that?"

"It's a surprise."

"Oh. Okay." Mel turned to the other newbie. "What are you going to be?"

Apparently Terry hadn't decided and was now on the spot. "Uh… um…" Sudden light bulb. "I'm gonna be a lamppost girl!"

I had never heard of lamppost girls. I assumed they were some juvenile super hero group, god knows there are enough of them.

But the girls were just as baffled as I was. "What's that?" Lexi asked.

"You know… They wear really pretty clothes with lots of sequins and glitter and stuff, they kind of—" She put a hand against the interior wall of the van, leaning, put the other hand on her hip and mimed chomping on gum. "—and they talk to cops a lot!"

I managed not to groan. A hooker. Terry wants to be a hooker for Halloween—and she came up with the idea in my car. With luck, we'd just be on the 'do not associate' list as opposed to defending in court on a 'corruption of a minor' charge.

"My brothers are gonna be Starsky and Hutch, so we can go as a group!"

As I pulled into the garage I couldn't help thinking, good, with any luck maybe I can blame her brothers for this idea.