Junie, however, had a hard time settling on an alternative. After my first creative costume triumph, I was privately dismayed by her clichéd brainstorms such as a skeleton or a pirate. (I fully admit and mourn my costume snobbery.) She eventually committed to being a "scary robot." My husband seemed enthused by the idea, so I happily handed the project over to him. She and her dad spent Saturday morning covering boxes with tinfoil while I was out running errands. The result when I returned was great! They even perfected her robot moves in time to the lyrics "Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto" sounding in the background.
Then, about five minutes before we were due to leave for our first Halloween festivity of the weekend, she decided that she "just [didn't] feel comfortable" in the robot costume. (This is her most recent tactic in our battle of wills: "But Mom, I just don't feel comfortable going to bed right now.") She donned her old costume without a second thought, and left her dad's genius robot creation sitting forlornly in the corner. Thankfully, my husband's personal sense of accomplishment doesn't rely on public displays of his creativity (hopefully I'll eventually arrive there as well), and so he simply dressed in his coordinating costume and off we went.
Andy Warhol and his creation.
Clue #1: My coordinating costume.
Salvador Dali and his painting, The Persistence of Memory.
I don't think I'd be amiss in saying that our costumes thus far have, in fact, been works of art.
But I suspect these two strong-willed kiddos will thoroughly stomp on my costume snobbery next Halloween - probably for the best.