I realize I got the costume loving skills from my mom. Or from my coming of age when she could no longer pick out the sweet get-ups she wanted me to sport. And, sometimes, my brother too.
You're welcome. Why? I did you all a favor and pulled together the greatest of Halloween costumes for you.
A joker, jester, professional silly man of sorts. Not to be confused with a funny person who makes jokes. Or a clown. This is a court jester of sorts. Because why dress your daughter as the queen when she can be the jester?!?
If all the childhood costume suffering wasn't enough, I grew up and realized my genetic predisposition to incorporate torturous costumes for ALL PEOPLE, but mostly for Jason.
Like the one time we were Charlotte and Wilbur and he wore a HIDEOUS pig nose and XXL girl's (as in children's) pink workout shorts.
Or when he had to take a pregnant chick to a frat party... Even though I WASN'T ACTUALLY PREGNANT. Two of the guys very sweetly offered to take me home so the baby didn't get second hand smoke.
Or when I painted our hair blue and teased it high as Heaven to play the role of Thing 1 and Thing 2 for a Dynamic Duo party. That is ENTIRELY our hair.
Or when we wore matching women's flannel pajamas to a Walk of Shame shin-dig. This girl WAS NOT about to run around in some lingerie or Tom Cruise Risky Business gear.
All this to say: MY KIDS ARE DOOMED.
Mostly because this genetic gift has been realized and will, upon the birth of children, be capitalized.