Thirtysomething

Ole`

Halloween is coming up. I like Halloween in theory, pumpkins, ghosts, scary movies. But I hate the dressing up part. I'm not sure why. I avoid costume parties like the plague. But that's now. As a kid of course, I LOVED dressing up. One of the most important decisions I made all year was what to be for Halloween. Dressing up meant trick-or-treating. And that meant candy!

Yay, candy! If I didn't think it might involve me getting arrested, I might still go trick-or-treating now. Minus the costume.

Anyway, one of the Halloweens I remember most was when I was Holly Hobbie. Does anyone remember Holly Hobbie or am I totally dating myself here? We weren't a very crafty family so I worn one of those God-awful plastic costumes. You know the kind that's basically a smock that you tie in the back, complete with a flimsy plastic mask that you could barely see or breathe out of? Yeah, one of those. My brother was about 3 and even though he wasn't going trick-or-treating, my mother dressed him up. In a sombreo, a poncho and (I can't even type this without laughing) a fake moustache. He was supposed to be a Mexican. My mother dressed her baby up as a Mexican man! How's that for political correctness?

My brother was traumatized by the fake moustache. The Mexican costume might has been forgotten completely, if it wasn't for a framed picture of Holly Hobbie and the Mexican that sits in my parents' den to this day. In the picture, the Mexican is crying much like he did for most of the day, due to the aforementioned moustache. I don't blame my brother one bit. I would equally upset to have so much facial hair at such a young age.

I can't even tell you how many years passed before I questioned the appropriateness of my brother's costume. As bad as it was, I can't help that I still find that picture adorable. My brother was one cute Mexican.

posted by DJ Heavy D @ 7:10 AM