This morning I tweeted that Halloween is another day every year when I’m reminded that I’m not the fun parent.

The fact is that I am not very creative when it comes to thinking up costumes…

Except for that one time I dressed the kid as Spartacat
Except for that one time I dressed the kid as Spartacat


and I’m not very comfortable making a fool of myself, no matter how many other people are doing it. I worry about being cold, uncomfortable, awkward. I was not one of those brave kids that wore a costume in high school even though not a lot of people were still doing that. I wore a costume in Grade 9 and that was it. (I was Scully).

Two years ago Joe kept asking the kid what he should be for Halloween and she kept saying a milkman, even though I’m pretty sure she had no reason to know what a milkman actually was. Halloween day comes and Joe comes downstairs dressed as Milk Man. I looked, I can’t find a picture.

I wish that I could get past whatever it is that stops me from being totally goofy.

I’m glad that the willingness to just get up and dance is something my kid has inherited from her Daddy.


I worry that sometimes with me she’s missing out on having the full experience of something. I know that I probably could have had more fun if I could just stop thinking so much about other people. I hope she never starts.

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