I logged onto Facebook this morning; my timeline was full of adorable kids heading out to school dressed up for Halloween and my 11 year old has gone to school annoyed with me because he isn’t dressed up nor does he have a costume to change into.
Now before you think, ‘ah the poor child’ and ‘what kind of a Mother doesn’t dress their child for Halloween’ hear me out. In my defense, he is 11, old enough and able enough to produce a Halloween costume. He’s known for weeks Halloween is coming, it comes every year, same time, never changes. I told the kids weeks ago I wasn’t buying costumes, obviously if they needed face paint or fake blood or
shite stuff like that (basically anything that can be got in Dealz!! HASHTAG NOTANAD!!) fair enough but they could make their costumes.
What does the 11 year old do? When I was
out of the way upstairs yesterday, he put on old clothes and when I say old I mean old. I don’t know how they missed the last cull. The legs of the pants barely scratched his ankles! Anyway, he went outside and wait for it now…….ROLLED AROUND IN THE MUCK!! IN THE F*&ING MUCK!! ‘Why, why did you do that son?’ ‘So I can be a zombie’ he says. Fake blood? No. Ripped sleeves? No. Dirty, smelly muck?? Any flippin’ amount of it. The state of him, I was sure I could feel my blood pressure soar. I made him throw the clothes in the bin and have a shower. And he did, with no argument. I guess standing in wet mucky clothes wasn’t all that comfortable!
It gets better! (« read that with a heavy hint of sarcasm) Then, at 8.30 this morning he comes into the kitchen with a grey tracksuit pants and a blue sweater. I say nothing. He gets cotton wool and sellotape and starts sticking cotton wool to the sweater. ‘What are you doing?’ ‘I’ll go as the Sky and the Ground.’ (jaw hits floor at this point) I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Wexford readers will know, The Sky and the Ground is a pub in town. Now I’m sure he isn’t aware of that but still, it was the first thing I thought of. A pub, the child is going to school dressed as a pub, he’ll come home with a note telling me to say 10 Hail Mary’s!! Anyway you won’t be surprised to hear that his idea didn’t work (phew) and he admitted defeat.I also need to buy more sellotape…..and cotton wool.
lecture quiet word from me about creativity and organisation and off he went to school with a face like a wet weekend. He could have put the cotton wool on his head and gone as a rain cloud.
Oh and best of all, he still needs a bloody zombie costume by Sunday, me feckin’ nerves will be shot.
Disclaimer: Rest assured, photographic evidence of the boy child’s day in school has appeared and he is laughing with his friends, so all is good.
No children were injured or mentally scarred during these shennanigans, the same can not be said for the mother in this tale however.