motherhood, Parenting

What’s the scariest thing to be for Halloween?

My girls have been super excited about this almost more than Christmas! They had an awesome first Halloween experience last year so have been impatiently waiting for Halloween to roll around again.

Last year they didn’t really know what it was all about, but this year they do. What IS it all about – well, it’s dressing up in a scary costume, going round our housing estate with their dad and all the other kids, and collecting TONS of sweets!!! Duh.

The costume decision has been a tough one this year. The close contenders so far have been:

  • a witch – but that’s what they went as last year
  • Gecko or Cat Boy from PJ Masks – but they weren’t deemed to be scary enough
  • Icy or Tritanus from Winx – but I explained that mommy is not skilled enough to make those kind of costumes.
  • a spider – but when I asked my youngest why on earth she wants to go as a spider since she is absolutely terrified of them, she decided against it. Thank goodness!

Finally they settled on the scariest thing they could imagine – a mummy!

Great, I thought! I’m actually doing something right, my kids are terrified of me! lol

When I asked why they wanted to dress up as me I was given the kind of face you dread coming from your kids, one of pity!

“No, silly mommy. Not a mommy, a mummy!”

Okay, I’ll admit. I was a bit disappointed! I wasn’t going to get away with the easy costume of t-shirt, jeans and trainers with a pony tail. Did I really think it would be that easy? Silly me!

So after hours of internet research on Pinterest, I am now attempting to DIY two little mummy costumes. I bought 2 meters of the cheapest fabric I could find, and it’s now seeping in tea to attempt to create the ancient look that is required.

I don’t own a sewing machine, so wish me luck at hand stitching the strips of tea-dyed fabric onto the oldest, holiest tights and t-shirts I can find. I pray it’s cooler than last year because otherwise they are going to sweat their little butts off.

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