Halloween was not such a big holiday when I was a kid. It was a night where kids got to run around without grownups and be unruly, but it wasn�t a Martha Stewart Living kind of holiday requiring, for suburban homeowners anyway, a serious outlay of cash for the requisite d�cor. We weren�t sucked in last year, choosing only a sedate couple of pumpkins for the front porch, whose faces we carved and whose seeds I devoured � pumpkin seeds are my favorite part of Halloween. This year, in addition to the requisite pumpkins, we talked ourselves into a couple of corn stalks, which looked vaguely rustic and attractive when we first put them up but are now somewhat bedraggled, due to the damp and wind of the last several days and to the vigorous ministrations of a chipmunk, who seems to find the stalks rather tasty.

But for AJ, it�s all Halloween all the time. A full three weeks of his pre-school curriculum has been devoted to the subject. So far he�s made ghosts, spiders, bats and a mummy (which he insists on calling �mommy,� much to my chagrin). AJ has been taking his choice of Halloween costume very seriously and changes his mind every couple of days. Naturally, I�ve used this as an excuse to do absolutely nothing about it. We have a couple of costumes in house that we can pull out (last year�s cowboy costume still fits). Also, there�s a terrific costume shop a couple of miles up the street in the middle of a cemetery. Even if you�re not in need of a costume, it�s pretty necessary to stop by there sometime in the month of October for the sheer spookiness.

At first AJ wanted to be a ghost. I�m pretty sure this idea came from watching �It�s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.� AJ is a devotee of all things Snoopy. But although I want him to be what he wants to be, I was concerned that when faced with a costume that went over his head, he would be unhappy. Fortunately, after a particularly entertaining trip to the supermarket, he changed his mind and thought it would be nice to be a tomato. Except he said �potato,� as he still can�t keep the two words straight. A few days later he decided he wanted to be a baseball player. This is easy, because AJ�s uncle has provided him with a steady supply of White Sox gear since birth. Seriously. I have uniforms from 6 month to 4T sizes and hats to match, not to mention T-shirts and assorted accessories. Baseball player? Not a problem. He actually held onto this idea for a while. But today AJ�s class got to play with a huge pile of costumes. AJ came home and informed us that he didn�t think he wanted to be a baseball player anymore. He wants to be a bumble bee. �Why a bumble bee?� I asked. �I don�t know,� AJ said. �Maybe because they�re fuzzy. And they sting people.�

Actually, this sounds about right for AJ, who is cute and cuddly, but who, when he runs to you to get a hug, has an uncanny knack for inflicting pain of the worst sort (groin kicking, nipple twisting, etc.).

So if any of you crafty people out there have any ideas for how I might manufacture such a costume, I�m all ears. I�m thinking of trying to track down a black and yellow rugby shirt and manufacturing a headband out of pipe cleaners and pompoms. He�s already got black pants. Still, I am having trouble getting the visions of the sad bee girl from Blind Melon�s �No Rain� video out of my head.

Of course by next week he�ll undoubtedly have moved on. Well, there�s always the pile of old sheets in the closet. Or the local thrift store.

And speaking of thrift stores, the wonderful onewetleg thrift store photographer extraordinaire, has just given me a fabulous review, my very first, at over25revue. So get yourself over there and sign up for a review of your very own (if you�re over 25, that is).
[Second entry today. Click back for a tedious, albeit brief, account of this morning's uncharacteristic industry.]

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