Farewell, faire October! Ye were a moste kinde and festive monthe and ye shall be missed!
('Cause if you add an, "e," to the end of words they look antique and stuff.)
TIME FOR THE REVEAL:
Don't be fooled by the long, luxurious locks. That's Calvin, bewigged and befestooned. Last chance to guess...
Gimli, son of Gloin! You know, at first I thought boys' Halloween costumes would be boring. But that was just because I was so used to girls (being one of four, having mostly girl cousins and having a daughter first and all). We have had so much fun with Calvin's costumes and, one of these years, I hope we actually get to dress him up as Calvin! And, I say this every year, but this year's costume is my favorite of them all. It looks so good I want to make him wear it on Sundays. He'd be warm!
I couldn't get any good shots of the details on the costume (that axe--pronounced, "ocksh," of course--made him squirrelier than ever) but there are tons of them! We were able to find a long, silvery cardigan to use as his chain mail and a long red dress jacket at Goodwill and after I'd deconstructed the jacket the only sewing Mom had to do was hemming! The gloves are an extra pair we had laying around, the suede pants were an impulse buy at Goodwill years ago (I KNEW they'd come in handy for a costume one day) and the EMUs (boots) are Redheaded Snippet's.
As previously documented, Daria made the axe, helmet and arm armor almost entirely by herself. I bought the supplies and applied Mod Podge. Everything else was all her! I think we need a close-up of that "ocksh"...
Fie! Even this shot does not do it justice. She made the blade out of foam board but it didn't look like foam board when she was done with it. It was incredible. Of course, Calvin spent half the night running up to me, begging me to carry it for him. But I just reminded him that Gimli never would have asked his mother to carry his ocksh and that usually sent him scurrying back to the group with rolling eyes.
And now for Redheaded Snippet. Don't be alarmed. She is not injured. Well, she is, actually, but not to the extent that you see represented here. She had to have X-rays yesterday to make sure the foot that got creamed by a blast on goal during field hockey practice on Sunday night wasn't broken. Thankfully, it wasn't, but the bone was bruised badly enough for the doctor to order her to stay off of it as much as possible for the next 24 hours. That threw a definite monkey wrench into her trick-or-treating plans.
But all was not lost! Gram to the rescue! She said, "Why don't you use my wheelchair?" And an idea was born. We dug out all of the first-aid/medical supply accoutrements we've accumulated over the years and put as many on her as we could. I even had, for some strange reason, a hospital gown leftover from my 77-day stay while on bedrest while pregnant with Calvin. Ten years ago. It was in the costume bin. I'm telling you, I'm a costume genius.
You can almost trace our family history in this costume. That's my hospital gown from when I was pregnant with Calvin. And my neck brace from when I fell down the stairs. The Viking's sling from when he hurt his shoulder playing softball that time. My brace from when I mysteriously and for no apparent reason got tendonitis in my wrist. The Viking's boot from when he stepped in a hole in the Home Depot parking lot. A few ace bandages from who knows what. And Mom's wheelchair. If I had had time, I would have made her an IV bag!
The facial injuries are faked, too. She did the black eye herself and I supplied the cuts and bruises with red and brown eye liner. The sourpuss face is because she was tired of pictures and wanted to GET ROLLING! She became quite the diva, demanding where to be pushed and how fast. Daria put on some of Mom's old scrubs and slung a stethoscope around her neck to push her around as her attendant. We really wanted to do a Nurse Ratchet type thing, but this was a very last minute costume so there was no time (I'm not kidding, this took less than 30 minutes from inception to completion).
Some people, knowing she plays field hockey and for whom, asked her, "Haha, are you an Eastern field hockey player?" And she would answer, "No, I play for the team Eastern just beat!"
Man-Cub got to spend the post-trick-or-treating cool-down with his second cousins while Redheaded Snippet went through her stash. She is not a very methodical or picky person, EXCEPT WHEN IT COMES TO HALLOWEEN CANDY. She organizes it by, I don't know, I think it's preference, or how much she has of each type or something.
This was when she sat back and pouted and said, "I want more." Like she's four years old.
Still four, defending her meagre stash from Daria who I think was right in trying to claim an attendant's fee.
Finally, this is a terrible picture. But it's the only one that captures the way The Viking showed up to join us for trick-or-treating. This is why I love my husband. It's not a very holy or mature reason, but I have to love a man who will stop home after work on Halloween and put on a long blonde wig and a pirate bandanna before driving over to meet his wife and kids who are out trick-or-treating. We called him Brett Michaels all night long.
All in all, it was another Halloween for the scrap books (if I did scrap booking, which I don't). And now, we look ahead to Thanksgiving and head to the store for steeply discounted Halloween candy!