CityView Magazine

10 October 2021 FAMILY MATTERS A homemade Halloween BY CL AIRE MULLEN He will accidentally wander into the "adult horror" section and catch a glimpse of the picture on the package of a Freddy Krueger get-up that will inevitably give him parent- waking nightmares until Christmas. My highly opinionated second-grade daughter will announce that just about every costume is "too babyish" before finally settling on the one perfectly age- appropriate, up-to-her-standards costume that also meets my approval. And, of course, they won't have it in her size. We'll finally accomplish the seemingly impossible task of choosing two Halloween costumes that make everyone happy. We'll take our selections to the register, and I'll swipe my credit card for $100, more than I've spent on a (full-sized) outfit for myself in I don't remember how long. I'll load a bag full of the makings of a "Wintery Witch" (really, what the heck is a Wintery Witch but the more expensive, white and silver sparkly version of a normal old witch-for- I t's usually just about early August when my eagle-eyed, ever holiday- ready children notice that the spooky script, orange and black banner has officially been hung outside one of the several pop-up Halloween costume stores around town. And then the begging begins. I'll endure almost two full months of "Mooooom can we PLEASE go look at the costumes? It's almost Halloween!" Cool it, kid. It's 101 degrees and the vampires are waiting in line behind the mosquitos. I will eventually relent and allow my two to peruse the aisles (upon aisles upon aisles) of the store stocked full of neatly packaged costumes organized by size and just about every theme you could possibly imagine. If tradition holds true, my 4-year-old will pick up every single superhero accessory in the store and air-fight an imaginary villain to test the overpriced cheap plastic for battle readiness, while also testing my patience. My highly opinionated second-grade daughter will announce that just about every costume is "too babyish" before finally settling on the one perfectly age-appropriate, up-to-her-standards costume that also meets my approval. all-seasons?) and a mini Captain America (complete with a flimsy plastic shield that I already know will be broken before the first day of autumn) into my trunk and think about the evolution of Halloween costumes since my days as a trick-or-treater. My siblings and I were blessed (as we know now, although growing up, we oentimes swore we were cursed) with a mom who was a Martha Stewart of sorts. I swear the woman could have built a legitimate, habitable house with nothing but her trusty glue gun and bits of fabric and recyclables from her cra bin. She could draw, paint, and sew like nobody's business. So, naturally, the four of us kids knew that there would be no arguing with Martha Jr. nor would there be annual September outings to Wal-Mart for costumes. We would, year in and year out, roam the streets of Huntington Park on All Hallows' Eve in homemade costumes. In retrospect, it's easy to appreciate the amount of time and love that Mom poured into always handcraing outfits for her four children. But, over the years, having an amateur costume designer for a mother did result in a handful of now- hilarious holiday snafus. e most memorable of all was the year that Mom decided that my youngest sister, Susanna, would make an adorable picnic table. She sourced a giant piece of sturdy cardboard, cut it into a square with a hole in the middle just big enough to allow for placing it over the head and onto the shoulders of a tiny 8-year-old. Mom cut an identical hole in the center of a red gingham cotton tablecloth and, armed with her glue gun, affixed it to the top of the cardboard. She decorated the makeshi tabletop with

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