It’s no secret that I love Halloween. I adore autumn and thrive on being creative, so Halloween is a natural love for me. (And my girls’ passion for dressing up is only rivaled by their love for candy, so it’s a family obsession.) Each year I let the girls pick whatever they want to be for the multitude of dress-up celebrations that occur leading up to Halloween, but on October 31st, I like to make their costumes and for them to match (while I still have a say, that is). So each year there’s a bit of back-and-forth involved, since both girls have to be excited about their coordinating costume. This year we went through a few ideas, but the one that stuck (I do have to admit) both surprised me a cracked me up.
“I want to be Moana,” Cricket declared one day.
It was a perfect fit for Cricket: Ryan’s paternal grandmother is 100% Hawaiian, she loves the movie, and her 2017 quote of the year has been, “Mom, I’m the perfect daughter because I’m beautiful” (NOT “but I come back to the water” haha).
But that’s not going to work, I thought. There aren’t really any other girls in the movie.
“Great, I want to be Te Fiti!” Emma Vance replied.
Well, then! That I can make work!
And so, all in agreement, I set out sewing.
As I concocted E.V.’s Te Fiti costume, I couldn’t help but think about a family story that’s been passed down over the decades. This particular piece of Aquilio family lore goes like this:
My middle brother, Tony, was 6 or 7 and insisted that he wanted to make his own Halloween costume. My mom and dad agreed, and so when Halloween rolled around and my brother hadn’t asked for any help, they began to get nervous. According to my mom, Tony locked himself alone in the bathroom before trick-or-treating. There were mumbles and grunts and bangs, but he insisted that no one see him until he was done. So they waited. And waited. And waited. And then he emerged.
There, standing before my parents, was their middle son standing in a green sleeping bag with the majority of it dragging behind him. It was cinched around his face, which was also painted green. My mom and dad were perplexed but supportive, so they complimented him on being so creative.
“What a cool, um, slug you are?”
They had no clue what he was supposed to be, but what is a parent to do? He looked as much like a slug as anything else. But they were wrong.
Tony exasperatedly replied, “No, Mo-om. I’m the Jolly Green Giant’s foot.”
And there you have it, folks. Proof that my harebrainedness is purely genetics.
I do have to note that my brother claims that it was actually my mom’s idea, but what’s that saying—“History is told by the victors?” Well, I suppose the modern sentiment is that “[family] history is told by the mothers,” so #momfacts win every time. ;) And since I’ve heard this story practically every Halloween that I can recall (“Remember the time Tony was the Jolly Green Giant’s foot?”), that’s the story that I’m sticking to.
I mention this random Aquilio family lore this year in particular because I can’t help but think that this year will be E.V.’s “Jolly Green Giant’s foot.” :) I mean, the girl loves her some face paint for sure, but this costume is so random that I’m sure when they’re 35 we’re going to be sitting around a dinner table laughing “about the time E.V. was an island for Halloween.” And I can’t wait!