Christmas costumes

 

I spent much of Sunday creating a Roman census taker costume out of whatever I could find in the house. “Where’s the red pillow case?” I asked assorted children. I had it down for a tunic, but no one knows where anything is in our house. I searched all cupboards and under beds. All I could come up with was a red and white pillowcase with 1D emblazoned all over it. Not very 1BC.

None of my children has any red clothes. Daughter one’s look is too cool for red. I have an old red Primark dress which I have clung onto despite it having rips in it. I’m waiting for ripped dresses to come in after the ripped jeans look. I couldn’t bring myself to sacrifice it in the interests of drama.
Then my eye alighted on a red and black dress my partner had bought me some time ago and which I have not worn for a while [mainly because it is under all of his clothes in the wardrobe]. It was perfect. I cut it up and sewed it into a tunic. I added a cloak made out of an old red blind with a broach and a gold necklace from Poundland with gold leaves on it as a headdress. Then I cut some cardboard into feet shapes and threaded string through them. Only son tried on the ensemble. He looked like a very small and somewhat sweeter version of Julius Caesar.
“Is that the dress I gave you for Christmas the other year?” my partner asked suspiciously. “I will never give you another present.”  “It’s okay, mum,” said only son, brandishing a sack of presents. “I have got you LOTS of presents.” Only son has been watching daughter three’s elaborate Christmas hunt which involves her dad seeking out a Christmas present for every one of the 24 days of December before Christmas.
Only son felt that was a bit unfair on his mum and has been hidden away wrapping up random stuff from around the house and putting it in his sack. I’m a bit worried that essential things like keys might be in the sack. Last night I was looking for a pen which is fairly essential if you are a journalist. There had been two on my desk just 24 hours before. “Any idea where the pens are?” I asked. Only son looked at me with his big brown eyes. “I think you might be very excited about what is in my sack, mum,” he said.
*Mum on the run is Mandy Garner, editor of Workingmums.co.uk. Picture credit: Wikimedia.




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