Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale...

Let's face it, Halloween is a nightmare. But when you're part of an over-achieving grade level team who insist on dressing as a theme, Halloween takes on a whole new kind of horror. Last year, I jammed my 5 foot 10 inch frame into a claustrophobic R2D2 can. Nothing could be worse than this, I thought to myself as I staggered shakily around the gymnasium, guided by 4th graders, during the much-anticipated annual costume parade.

"Gilligan's Island?!?" I said doubtfully when the idea was presented during team time. "Yeah, you'll be the Professor," I was told. OK, I thought, I can handle that...Hawaiian shirt with a lei and white pants...good to go. Uh-huh. Two weeks later, I was unceremoniously re-assigned to the Movie Star, Ginger. I flew home in a panic. How was I, Amy Mosiman...who owns forty shades of brown pants, going to pull off a statuesque red-haired vixen? I quickly ordered a costume on-line, ignoring the "fits sizes 12-14" label, and put the entire matter out of my mind.

Until the witching hour...when I tried to try on my costume. "I look like a polska kielbasa that's been microwaved," I sobbed to my family as they stared, thunderstruck at me, stuck in this dress. Sydney was confused by my over-wrought analogy until Brad quietly described how a sausage will get all blown-up and bumpy as they wrestled me out of my costume casing.

All seemed lost until I was rescued through the combined heroic efforts of Sydney and school librarian/friend, Amy White. Red wig taped to my head like a jaunty little hat, colleague Kelly-Nichol-Dime sacrificed her lunch to stuff me into my dress which was every bit as pleasant as you would imagine. One foot planted against my rear to brace herself, teeth clenched, arms straining as she pulled the back corset strings tight. Sort of like stuffing a pillow into a pillow case. Seams straining, I strapped on five inch heels and tottered off.

Firmly in Ginger-mode, I took the school by storm...slinking, winking, pouting and posing my way through the halls. I WAS a movie star...an honest-to-goodness goddess. My fifteen minutes of fame flew by in a flash and I was back in my familiar world of mom-jeans and a t-shirt before you could say bippity-bobbity-boo. I made the mistake of reviewing my pictures too soon. What I encountered was not a rapturous island beauty but a tired-looking  but well-meaning transvestite. Talk about your fateful trips.