Feline fine: 4th grade team's group costume was a roaring success

Halloween is not considered "child's play" in the 4th grade. 

A great deal of brain-storming and discussion is involved in costume planning along with the annual student flash mob theme and music.

One Halloween is barely over before planning for the next Halloween begins...

It's supposed to be a group effort but lately...it's been three-against-me.

I began tossing out ideas over the summer...biding my time for when inspiration truly struck. My team-mates dismissed each suggestion with casual indifference...like they had anything better to do in July than to think about which ridiculous costume they would be donning in October. 

But when our first official team meeting was scheduled in September, I was ready with an idea so iconic...so trendy...so original...that we would make Halloween history. 

"Caitlyn Clark," I announced, mentally prepared to be picked up and placed on the youthful shoulders of my team-mates and paraded around for my utter brilliance and creativity. 

Instead...I was greeted with dead silence and...I must have been mistaken...did they side-eye one another as though I were a daft idiot?

I must have been selling this wrong. They weren't getting it. "One person will be Caitlyn," I explained, "while another one of us will be a giant inflatable basketball. Another person can be the posted basketball net (I showed a helpful picture to help them visualize this amazing scene) while the last person could be a ref." 

"No, we get it, Amy," I was told just before I heard the 4th quarter buzzer go off, signaling my loss.

Before I knew it, I was re-routed off the road to the Final Four and detoured over to some new construction where they were laying some yellow bricks.

Speaking of paving stones...

I sighed. I was effortlessly tossing 3-pointers and my team was launching bricks.

But you know me...always trying to make the best of things...a true team player. So, I pivoted.

Naturally...I would be the witch. My disposition alone guaranteed it. My extensive theater background began in grade school as a flying monkey before I was bestowed the broom in my high school play. My laugh was legendary.

But before I could boast of my witchy resume, Allison shared how she was related to the original Wicked Witch of the West, the legendary Margaret Hamilton...dashing my dreams of petrifying my pupils. 

"I'll be the Swearcrow," I volunteered, again...trying to be a team player.

"You already have a lion costume," I was told, "You can be the Cowardly Lion."

It was getting harder and harder to keep a paws-itive attitude here.

So what if I simmer in that suit like a slow-roasting stew? So what if children relentlessly pull my tail and confuse me with a bear? So what if I am seen in that stupid suit every March as I prance around the bus loop with Erin to commemorate the fickle weather related to the third month of the year? I'm happy to be sweaty, bullied and redundant for the good of my team.

The big day arrived. I reluctantly stuffed myself into that suit, grabbed my mini-fan, and pranced my way along the parade route...paw-sing for high-fives, pouncing on preschoolers, posing for pictures. 

It was time for the Grande Finale:  The Annual 4th Grade Flash Mob.

We had been practicing for weeks and had all our moves down cold.

The toss the leaves into the air.

The pound your chest like a gorilla.

The door/door, floor floor move.

I slid into place and glanced around. I spotted the slew of inflatable costumes including Room 14's very own trio of dinosaurs. While I was a saturated sponge at the moment, I realized that I could be attempting the invisible arrow launch bound within the confines of an inflated basketball. Say what you will, at least the lion costume has give. And give it did...when my velcro-back blew out when the Atlas: Weight-of-the-world-on-your-shoulders move cued up. I was grateful that I hadn't followed through with my threat of going commando under the sauna suit.

So much for mane-taining my dignity.

I wish I was lion.