My Halloween Fright

| my sweet little witch with a rat in one hand and my cauldron in the other |

It happened to me. Every parent’s worse fear. On Sunday, the day before Halloween, I was helping my 4-year old, Catherine, get ready for a Halloween event where she would be wearing her new Elsa costume. By the way, Elsa is the Ice Queen in the Disney movie FROZEN, she’s the one that sings “Let it Go.” Please keep up people.

This is the same Elsa costume that we bought weeks ago because we were so sure we wanted to be Elsa. The same Elsa costume that when we found it, Catherine squealed in delight and hugged it. The same Elsa costume that cost me an arm and a leg. The same Elsa costume that has been hanging on a hook in her bedroom as we both gazed lovingly at it and counted down the days before she could wear it. The very same Elsa costume that can never ever be returned for a refund.

As we were about to step into our Elsa costume, I hear my daughter’s tiny little voice say “Momma, I don’t want to be Elsa anymore.” And then it was my turn to be FROZEN. Several seconds went by and I started taking controlled breaths, nostrils flaring. “Excuse me?” I said. Catherine looked directly at me and with a much stronger voice I hear “I want to be a witch instead.” And then it was my turn to be a witch. “Oh no. I am not doing this. You told me you wanted to be Elsa weeks ago. No, we have this costume and you will wear it.”

Surprisingly, she ended up going to the Halloween event in her regular clothes.

After the event, I found us in Party City. I was holding her hand. Okay, she was holding mine (she’s very supportive that way). Halloween was 24 hours away and I had to do something. We were both staring at empty hooks on white pegboards. In the costume section, they have a large grid with photos of all the costumes that they carry. Or used to. I found a very exhausted looking employee and I pointed to the photo of Lil Witch, “Do you have number 375 in a small?” Nope. “Okay, how about number 224, Pretty Potion?” Nope.

“Catherine, how do you feel about being Iron Man?”

Desperation set in. I started trying to cobble together a costume with the discarded remains of all the costumes pieces that no one wanted to wear. At one point I had a rainbow tutu, black bat wings and a plastic sword in my hands and I felt really optimistic.

How do you tell your little girl that there are no witches costumes to be had? There was only one thing to do. I sent out an S.O.S. to my friends with girls and Jessica (she has three girls and my odds were on her getting back to me first) texted back to save the day. I thought you would want to see some photos of Catherine in her witch costume. And I have a tear stained Elsa costume if anyone is interested, size 5. Deeply discounted.