Dressing like "Little House" turned out to be seriously funny: What an oxymoron

I admit it. I have a soft-spot for my friend and colleague, Marissa. That is the ONLY explanation for how I was talked into this year's thematic group Halloween costume. She did it two years ago with Willy Wonka...pleading to be Violet as it would work perfectly with her pregnant belly. I'm a big Roald Dahl fan. Fascinating man. I'm NOT a big Roald Dahl genre-defying book fan. Scary weird. But because I am a big Marissa fan...I strapped on my suspenders, put on my top hat, twirled my cane and gave it a go. Vowing...never again.

But guess who's pregnant again?

With twins.

Sigh.

Cue up The Little House on the Prairie intro because this land wagon is about to set sail.

I won't lie. I really wrestled with the notion that I'd been relegated to humorless home spun from Olsen's
mundane mercantile; isolated to a world of outdoor plumbing and a Roald Dahl-less library. Did Walnut Grove even have a bar? 

We HAD to liven this up a little.

I thought I had the team convinced to cinematically re-create the iconic opening credits scene of the television show. But, suddenly, stubborn as mules, they dug in their prim pioneer heels and refused to film on the day that we were scheduled to meet our new team-mate, Spencer...worried about traumatizing her with our wonky weirdness. Spencer, as it turns out, is even wonky-weirder than us...firmly entrenched in the local theater's guild. Heaven-sent opportunity...lost. And, c'mon! Wouldn't that have made for the most AMAZING first meeting EVER!?!

IMAGINED CONVERSATION

"So, Spencer," asked her husband upon her return, "How did it go?" 

"Oh, okay, I guess," she'd have answered, shrugging. "They tossed me in a prairie dress, handed me a basket, made me skip downhill through a field of flowers and feign falling a thousand times." 

"They sound like terrific people," her husband obviously would have responded. 

But...no. Denied my way...AGAIN.

How on earth could we slip a little spice into this bland porridge of pioneers?

"We've got Nellie!" Marissa squealed, clapping her hands with delight, confident that I would see that this was certain to elevate our game. But a ringlet-ed little witch would not be enough. I was going to have to hitch my wagon to another set of stars.

Wait.

A wagon.

And....aaaaaaa-way, we go!

Everyone now (more or less) appeased, we got down to the business of planning the annual 4th grade, end-of-Halloween parade, dance performance. We select songs that mirror our team theme. At first, I despaired finding songs that the kids would enjoy that matched our "Little House" choice (Oh my gosh..."Our House" by Madness JUST popped into my head! Drat it! Another missed opportunity!) but it came together pretty effortlessly. Sweet Caroline. County Road. 

And Wagon Wheel.

"Do we dare use props?" I gasped.

Oh, yes.

We dare.

What could possibly go wrong? We only needed around 70 hula hoops. And to teach 9-year-olds to use them in perfect unison. And trust 9-year-olds to NOT play with them. No problem.

We'd worry about the inflatable costumes later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun slowly rose the morning of October 31st. Frost lightly blanketed the ground. A precipitous mist baptized the beginning of a day where the  spirits of children were atmospherically high. Adults would take note of the heavy, battle-gun gray clouds and, with jaws clenched, heroically nod in resignation. We avoided active eye contact with one another...not sure which one of our own would fall today. 

My team swiftly donned their modest garb and then met in my room to wrestle me into my outfit.

Katriel bravely guided each of my feet into the legs of my lumber-some oxen costume as it was busy inflating. Allison kneeled primly on the ground to double-tie my laces as I can't see my tootsies on a good day. Team assembled...we were ready!

Belatedly, I worried about my choice of musical transitions...The Blue's Brothers version of "Rawhide." We needed to liven it up some...but how?

So...as nearly seventy costumed 9 year-olds twirled imaginary lassos between each choreographed song, Mrs. Mosiman, dressed as a giant ox, was chased through fields of 4th graders by...Captain America. Makes sense...right?

Turns out that running around the gym in a giant inflatable ox suit, dancing manically in a giant inflatable ox suit, and pulling a wagon around in a parade in a giant inflatable ox suit was almost enough to give this poor girl a cardi-yak arrest! 

Next year, I plan to steer clear of inflatable costumes (and Marissa)!