Picking up chicks

Well, I had to pick this chick up several times while trick-or-treating. And damn if the boy isn't getting heavier by the minute.

Folks, if you're wondering why people ever have children, one of the reasons is that on one day of the year, you can dress 'em up in silly-looking clothing and have them go out and beg for candy. Not for him, mind you, because he's not allowed to eat that much. I, however, currently have the carcasses of four mini-candy bars within reach. (Thanks to the Costco Hershey's bag, I had a Butterfinger, a Reese's peanut butter cup, an Almond Joy, and a Kit Kat, which is melting in my mouth as I type this.) If I were nice, I would bring some candy to class, but I'm forcing one class to watch Babel, so you can determine for yourself whether I'm nice or not.

Today was my day with Xan, so I brought him to campus in costume. The costume would have been perfect had it been a normal Octobery day; at 70 degrees, however, this suit was a little hot. (I bought this, by the way, on clearance at Old Navy -- a store I never even walk into -- last year for a grand total of five bucks, well spent.) The result was that the voices of nearly every person who walked by us went up by at least three registers upon seeing him in this suit. (This includes the I'm-too-cool-for-school frat boys who sit outside the student center all day to smoke.) Admittedly, I laughed for a full five minutes when I tried the costume on him for the first time the other day, perhaps because my rather un-American (read: not obese) child doesn't normally have a body shaped like this, which I found reminiscent of the main characters in the animated film Chicken Run.

The best part about these pictures, however, is not merely that they capture how adorably cute he really is: it's the fact that we'll have enough material from today alone to fully embarass him about 15 years from now. Mark my words.

Myself, I had a lot of plastic costumes growing up -- and my "homemade" costumes of later youth were not always terribly inventive. (I was a hobo for several years, I think, in junior high.) In graduate school, the creative juices started to flow more and for a couple years I went as Luka, which I thought was amusing, yet topical... until I discovered that people thought my masterful makeup job indicated actual bruises. (Shockingly, Angela refused to go as my mother one year.) I also managed to win a costume party contest as Speed Racer -- a natural for me since (a) my hair naturally creates that curl in the middle of my forehead if I don't use hair product, and (b) I managed to find a pair of white bellbottoms that gave me the perfect Speed silhouette. (Actually, those pants were a little tight. No, a lot tight. In the right spot. Let's just say I had to walk carefully for fear of hurting myself. I know, too much information...)

In my attempt to get everything done today, I didn't put too much effort into this year's costume for trick-or-treating, instead choosing to spike up my hair, wear all black and call myself first a Robert Smith wannabe (which became impossible when I remembered I only recently threw out all my old goth makeup, which had gone bad) and then merely a behind-the-scenes techie. Besides, I didn't actually have to teach today and I didn't want to distract from Xan's impact on his first outing on Halloween. I have threatened for several years now, however, to do something much more daring -- and wouldn't you know that next year the holiday falls on a Wednesday and I'm teaching Cinemas of Latin America again?

In any case, happy halloween. If anyone still wants some candy tomorrow, I still have plenty. (You still only get it if you come in costume, however.)