I have spent the last two weeks or so gloating.
Not because I am exceptionally creative or crafty and can whip up a book week – nay, any kind of dress up, costume or otherwise in the blink of an eye.
(Why, not two days ago my beloved popped the button on his pants, walked up to me and very seriously asked “Where is the sewing box?”
I very nearly passed out from lack of breath due to laughter at hilarity of his question. Once he realised what he’d asked, he laughed too. Then sewed the button back onto his pants himself.)
Not even because I could sit down with my child and have a delightful discussion about the numerous characters he could go as.
No. I was gloating because all around me people were either showing off or ranting about book week and the need for costumes and dress ups and I didn’t have to do one because the school weren’t participating!
Then, of course, because yesterday was the kind of day that it was, I discovered that indeed, they were having a Book Week Dress Up day.
I did attempt to discuss this with Godzilla who said “I don’t want to dress up”. Really, I could have left it, but was feeling so revoltingly like a Failure as a Mother, and I’d missed Crazy Hair Day every year for the last eight years (and Godzilla is only in Grade 4) and not baked cupcakes for cupcake stalls and, basically, just forgot everything that was happening … I really wanted him to participate.
For my benefit.
Sadly, my ability to recall book characters that he may have a clue about failed me. I couldn’t remember if I’d even showered yesterday, so Think Of A Book Character was way beyond my capabilities at that moment.
“How about Captain Underpants?” I suggest.
“Um, no. That’s just a nappy and a cape. Everyone will see my nipples,” he replies.
“Ok,” I think some more. “What about someone from one of Adam Wallace’s books? Pete McGee? Or, I know, how about one of the kids from Better Out Than In? What about the kid that farts? You fart, you could go as him!”
“Please stop making suggestions,” he requests.
So, this morning, I’m still feeling extremely inadequate and he’s still determined to a) not dress up and b) not respond with open arms to my ideas.
He dresses as he does every day (only with a a clean, fresh t-shirt today, I think) in casual clothes.
“Ok,” I say, because I’m struggling to let this go. “How about, if anyone asks you just tell them you’re Andy from the Just Series by Andy Griffiths?”
“But I don’t want to dress up today!” he tells me.
“But just if someone asks, ok? Deal?”
He sighs and walks away.
I’m going to take that as affirmation that he is, indeed, dressed as Andy from the Just Series.
I so totally ROCK at this being a school mum thing! Yeah, baby!