Lederhosen and other costume dilemmas

 

Only son came home on Wednesday with two letters. The first was about World Book Day. The theme this year is friends and relationships apparently. The letter suggested Piglet and Winnie the Pooh. Tricky for those of us who subscribe to the variations on a sheet costume theory. Togas, medieval peasants, ghosts etc – sheets are very adaptable, but they do not extend to Piglet. Unless Piglet is dressed as a ghost. I proposed that we revamp the Harry Potter costume. We acquired a Harry Potter badge several years ago and pinned it to a black cape. The costume is topped up with glasses and a twig. Hey presto, Harry Potter, friend to Hermione and the other guy. Only son was not so sure. He suggested Squidward from Spongebob. Hmm. I counterproposed Rodrick Heffley, the goth teenage brother from Diary of a Wimpy Kid. Eyeliner and a black t-shirt with the words ‘Loded Diaper’ written across it. Only son is warming to the idea. I am backing it up with a month of pro-Rodrick propaganda.

I delved deeper into his school bag. There was another letter announcing a play at the end of March. It is set in a German village. Lederhosen may be required…Only son is a narrator and “cheerleader”.”Does that require lederhosen?” I inquired. Only son shrugged his shoulders. He had no idea what I was going on about. His sisters were getting quite excited about the lederhosen. I contemplated how on earth I could adapt the ghost sheet.

Outside of the costume scenario, only son is fairly particular about his clothes. He has never warmed to the idea of trousers. He prefers leggings because he says trousers are “cold”. Unfortunately, all leggings are in the girls department, something he has not quite noticed up until now. I have tried to entice him into jogging bottoms and the like, but he is not convinced. He teams the leggings up with shorts. It is fair to say that only son is quite a feisty character who is used to fighting his own space and regularly tells his parents off for not prioritising childcare [ie him] and chastises his sisters for laying around watching Netflix [we’re on the free one month trial and some people do not seem to have moved from the sofa since, “catching up”].

Meanwhile I am being lambasted by daughter one even though she is the one in the wrong. We spent most of Saturday evening waiting for her call to pick her up from the station [there are no buses after a certain time]. She was on airplane mode and not responding to messages. This went on for many hours and I got worried. After several hours, I may also have begun a slight rant. “Mum said she didn’t care if you were alive or dead,” said daughter two helpfully. I explained that this was taken out of context and that I was very worried about her because she was supposed to come back in the early afternoon. Clearly I did care if she was alive or dead because I have spent 18 years, count them, endeavouring to keep her alive. This has all been translated into “mum wants me dead” and is likely to be trotted out from here to eternity.

*Mum on the run is Mandy Garner, editor of Workingmums.co.uk.





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