“And when I’m 35, I’m going as Thor’s second cousin’s hairdresser…”

Ah, Halloween…the time of year when we can dress our children up like the living nightmares that they are. I kid.

One thing that my children are learning about this Halloween is that you have to lock in those costume choices early–just like Christmas gifts. If I don’t know what you want by November 17^th then you’re getting whatever I can find at Sam’s (“Dear Santa, thank you for the 300-count box of vacuum bags. I didn’t know what to do with them, so I gave them to Mommy. She laughed like Ursula from The Little Mermaid. It was scary.”)

Suttie decided back in July that he wanted to be Jack Skellington after seeing The Nightmare Before Christmas for the first time. He also decided that it was crucial to the authenticity of the character to learn all of Jack’s songs and dance moves and to perform them for us twice daily. Thanks, Tim Burton, you sorry son of a bitch.

So the search began. We went to the ends of the internet searching for a Jack Skellington costume and only found one: a $55 number from somewhere in the UK that we unearthed on ebay. And four days later, after I talked myself into buying a $55 used costume, Jack was on his way to our house. I even ordered him some separate skeleton gloves to complete the ensemble because I’m just that kind of super mom–you know, the kind that worries about skeleton gloves but can't remember if the kids actually had a bath this week or if we just talked about it.

But after the Jack costume arrived and his excitement died down, Suttie saw a picture of the latest Ironman movie and declared that he wanted to be Ironman for Halloween. Say what?! Uh-uh, hells to the no, you are going to be Jack Skellington if I have to glue that mask to your face and round out our night of trick or treating with an ER visit to have it removed.

And every week it seems, he’s got some new character that he’d just love to be for Halloween: Thor, Luke Skywalker, Spiderman, all of the Ninja Turtles…at once, a kid with a limited understanding of personal space (no costume necessary). He’s even started charting out his costumes for the next several Halloweens to make sure that he covers them all: “And when I’m 32, I’m going as Batman, and when I’m 33, I’m going as Robin, and when I’m 34, I’m going as their butler.” It’s good to see him planning for the future.

But the only thing that’s worse than Suttie asking for a new costume every other day is his constant queries about what I’m going to be because apparently an exhausted, overworked, overstressed mother of two was soooo last year.

Now, I consider my husband and me to be “fun” parents. We have tickle fights and wrestling matches (with the kids, not each other….weirdo), we risk staph infection going to Chuck E. Cheese, we make jokes at the kids’ expense. But we draw the line at dressing up like Mario and Luigi to drag our children from door to door hours after they were ready to go home...cause $55, people. We don’t really have a strong reason to back us up on this other than the fact that the kids make us look like idiots enough on a non-costume day. And like most true Americans, we like to take a stand before we've thought up any real reasons to do so.

So tomorrow, when Suttie asks me what I’m dressed up as for the big night, I’m going to tell him the truth…that I’m an undercover spy with an invisible uniform and hidden weapons. Because blatant trickery is the third line of defense in my parenting arsenal behind bribery and hiding the good snacks in my closet.

P.S. Here's a glimpse of Suttie as a young Jack Skellington. He made me post this: