The end of school year fancy dress fun day is looming
There was panic in the house at the weekend as the most useful item I possess went missing. I refer of course to the black hooded dress-up cape which has saved my life on more than one fancy dress occasion.
Some time ago I decided that ripping up and rearranging black plastic bags was no longer adequate for the cut throat world that is children's fancy dress gatherings and some new staple items were needed.
It was the best €14.99 I have ever spent. Whether we were trying to create a vampire, witch or wizard; a teacher, town official or fairy tale character or the inevitable Harry Potter, this cape has been invaluable.
Slap on a bit of face paint and plop a stick, wand, broom or hoover attachment in their hand and you are good to go.
The end of school year fancy dress fun day is looming ominously and I am having palpitations remembering last year's under the sea theme and the cobbled together submarine outfit made from a curtain pole, six black plastic sacks and a flower pot.
I have forbidden the resurrection of the dreaded ninja warriors as my boys took the costumes as licence to karate chop everything in sight including the teacherís desk and the bowl of tadpoles on the nature study table.
Debacle
The year previous to the Ninja debacle I remember the trail of straw left from one end of the school to the other by my scarecrow son. Despite the mess I was particularly proud of that outfit until he arrived home red raw from a day spent endlessly scratching at the prickly straw.
I told the school principal that I was boycotting the next dress-up fun day as I had yet to experience the fun and had no more bath mats, bed sheets or nerves for that matter to donate in its service.
These events really should be kept for the Halloween season and the depths of winter when itís pitch-dark outside and a black polo neck and a pair of wellies passes muster. In fact, the more hodge-podge a Halloween outfit, the more I seemed able to pass it off as spooky and terribly clever.
Creative skill
Unfortunately in the cold light of day my creative skill does not stand up to much scrutiny. Critical parental assessments of which outfits are the most inventive and curious childish enquiries as to 'what exactly are you meant to be?' leave me mumbling and mortified. It is considerably easier to pretend that my children make all their own costumes as admitting my involvement would deny them any pity votes from the judging panel.
I swore this year we would boycott fancy dress day and head to the zoo instead but my children protested and promised faithfully to help with the outfits. The trouble is their suggestions require not only vast amounts of paint and cardboard but the imagination and patience to convert all three of them into Smurfs, minions, robots or Vikings.
Last year's winner was a poor unfortunate bunch of grapes dressed head to toe in black and covered in three dozen purple balloons. Was the idea clever and unique? It certainly was. Was it mortifying and uncomfortable for the poor child who had to stand all day long and turn sideways to pass through doorways? I am quite certain it was. Did he make the costume all by himself? I hardly think so.
This year I am opting out. I quit before I even start. If that makes me a bad mother, so be it; I am giving myself an honorary pass on this assignment and heading for the zoo.