T-7 Days
Halloween Is Just The Day After

Halloween This

After waking from a delightful dream in which I initiated and then culminated a torrid affair only to discover that he was a bore and that I was happier with Steve after all (very Metternich), the day has rapidly disintegrated. And it is only 10:45.

Patrick's class had a Halloween party today and the children were welcome to come in costume. We also had to bring "a treat" to share and do you want to know which asshole parent I am? I am the one who brought the jack-o-lantern shaped bubble blowers, one per child. When I was a kid I would have been disgusted: "Is this 112% sugar? Then what good is it?! Gimme some candy corn and a razor blade and a small mirror... NOW!"

Since we live an, ah, isolated existence I first had to explain to Patrick what a Halloween costume was. He thought I was insane. I then began suggesting costumes he might like to wear: a dinosaur, a teddy bear, a quidget... he categorically refused. When I pressed the issue, pointing out that it is fun to dress up, he damned my impertinence ("NO, Mommy, I said NO".) So, after a half-hearted attempt this morning to have him wear a hat and/or lipstick, I put an orange shirt on him and he went to school As-Is.    

Where he discovered a roomful of parents with cameras and every kid in his class in elaborate, generally enormous, costumes. Patrick was completely overwhelmed and horribly uncomfortable and he reverted to his non-talking, corner-standing self of yore. I lingered with him for a few minutes until he asked, pointedly, "Are you staying at school today?" and I started to walk out the door. But the two teachers were chatting with parents, and no one was paying any attention to Patrick who looked miserable and isolated. I came back into the room and asked if he wanted to do the alphabet puzzle (we all have our security items) and he was visibly relieved and said yes, yes he would, so I walked him over to the puzzle corner and left when he said, "Good morning, letter A! How did you sleep?"

I am annoyed at the teachers for not making an effort to engage him in something, anything, when he was so clearly ill at ease. And I felt like a fool for having the only child in jeans (really? I have the ONLY three year old in the world who found the idea of wearing fairy wings repugnant?) And I am a jerk for having it never occur to me in a million years to bring a fucking camera to Halloween Day at the preschool. And while I am on the subject of my failures, I noticed that all of the camera-toting parents seemed to know each other. How did that happen? I just drop Patrick off and then I pick him up again. When did they all manage to bond to the extent that Mother A was asking Mother B how her boss took The News about The Thing?

Clearly *I* am the outcast, the social misfit, the deviant, and that is why my child is so weird and won't have whiskers painted on his face for love nor money.

Damn it. I feel bad. I should have started crewel-working the letters of the alphabet and the numbers to quindecillion onto a sporty two-piece outfit right after the 4th of July. Then Patrick could have represented Knowledge. He probably would have gone for that.

Bleck. Feel free to cheer me up anytime here.