I was going to do another top 5 Friday (something to do with mysteries because we are all mystery-crazed at our house), but I'll save it for another time. This week Lucy came home and said excitedly, "Mom, it's '50s day on Friday! Everyone has to dress up like the '50s and we're going to play games with the number 50 and have bubble gum and root beer floats!" OK, we did not have this much fun when I was in kindergarten. Where is my '50s day, I ask you? But this is one of the reasons I enjoy having kids, so I can live vicariously.
She went on to remind me about '50s day every day this week. Yesterday when I picked her up from school she said, "I need a costume, Mom, you know, for tomorrow for '50s day." I am all about scrounging around and using what we have at home for costumes. In pre-school, there was a dress-up day practically every other week. Remember, I am the one who famously sent Lucy dressed in a stethoscope and her pajamas, which I convinced her were scrubs, for community helper day. So I said, "I know what you can wear. We'll roll up a pair of your jeans, and then you can wear a white t-shirt and your white gym shoes."
"No!" she said, with a note of panic rising in her voice. "I need a poodle skirt and top! I can't wear jeans and a t-shirt! That's what BOYS will be wearing!"
I don't know, something about that just raised some compassion in my heart. This girl needed something to wear for '50s day. So, we headed to Target. Wait--we headed home to take care of something first. The previous night as Darren and I were turning out the lights downstairs and getting ready to head to bed, we noticed with shock, shock I tell you, that someone had drawn on the walls. In more than one place. Naturally we assumed it was Elaine, since that's pretty much something she would find delightful, but then we looked closer. The drawings were perfectly executed stars (Stars of David, not pentagrams. Can we be thankful for this?)
When confronted, Lucy confessed. She didn't know what got into her except that she didn't have enough paper. You know, because the several reams of printer paper and the 17 coloring books we've picked up at each trip to the post office aren't readily at her disposal. I pointed out the lameness of that excuse and handed her the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser. Then we had a little talk about how the bank owns our home and how Daddy and I work hard to pay a little something every month on a 30-year mortgage. And how we expect a 5-year-old to know better than write on the walls.
Then we headed to Target. [A side note: Darren and I were so outraged and disappointed that our lovely, mature daughter would write on our walls. Then I remembered the time in grade school, waaay after I should know better, that I thought it would be ever so hilarious to fasten the little hook and eye lock on the attic door while my brother was up there looking for something. When he tried to get out, he didn't realize the door was locked; he thought it was stuck and threw his entire scrawny frame against it. The door burst open, ripping a piece of the door frame with it. You know, the 80+-year-old original wood door frame. How we've lived to tell the tale, I'm not sure.]
Anyway, we found some things at Target that make a perfect costume and can also be worn separately. When we got home, Lucy couldn't wait to try it all on. She danced upstairs and shouted, "Come and help me get dressed in my '50s costume, Mama!" Then, I heard a little voice behind me. I turned to see Elaine standing only in her jeans, with her shirt off, "Where's my costume?" she asked sadly.
Ohhhhh. We went upstairs together to help Lucy. I knew Elaine couldn't be pawned off with the usual assortment of dress-up clothes that they wear on a semi-daily basis, so I searched in the closet and brought out a Christmas jumper. "How about this?" I asked brightly. "Look at this darling little Christmas dress. It's got sparklies on it! And a Christmas tree! And two Scottie dogs!"
"Dat is NOT a costume," she declared mutinously.
Fortunately, a friend recently gave Lucy three absolutely beautiful and very fancy dresses--all taffeta and net and beading. I grabbed one of them that had a little matching jacket. "How would you like to try on this gorgeous princess dress?" I asked. Her little face brightened like the sun. Now THAT was an acceptable costume.
Here they both are--
My little '50s girl...(with the requisite poodle of course)
And Elaine, who also went to my closet and found some suitable "cloppy shoes" to go with her outfit. She doesn't look happy or anything, does she?
Happy '50s Friday to all!