What bothers me most is the look of pride on my face.
My mother had clearly phoned it in that Halloween and I was oblivious to the fact that I was wearing a slip over my head and carrying an Easter basket. What could she have possibly said to convince me to appear in public like this?
To this day, she refuses to acknowledge that this ensemble can in no way be said to represent a "costume." And irony was still decades away from having a foothold in the suburbs.
Then again, my mother has always been a little bit ahead of the curve.
Further reading from the costume bin: Tinkerbelle is so last week