Nov 6, 2009
Remembering the satisfaction I got from making Joaquin’s pirate costume last year, it was kind of implied that this Halloween he would wear a mommy-made costume again. So after a short talk with Joey, we decided that the only requirement for this year’s character would be to include a mustache, just because we loved last year’s mustache so much… My friend Kim came up with the perfect suggestion, and from that moment on I began my research:
My plan was to make a “historically accurate” musketeer tunic (i.e. royal blue with silver outline, perfect cross appliqué, side panels with their respective silver outlines and crosses), boot spats, a sword, and hack a white onesie to apply puffy sleeves and the fru-fru musketeer collar. But as I started working on the project, plans changed… partly because of laziness, partly because the hacked onesie idea was flawed, and partly in an attempt to avoid elements that might make Joaquin hate and reject the costume. And so, I ended up eliminating the side panels of the tunic, and sewing a real shirt with the collar I envisioned, and bell-shaped sleeves instead of puffy.
Now, of course we needed some kind of event where Joaquin could show off my — I mean, his — costume. An so, although we don’t go to the Little Gym any more (because Joaquin’s crying and yelling and turning–into–a–devil every class we attended during the last week of the semester, made it perfectly clear that he did not want to go there any more), I bought guest tickets to their Halloween party.
And the day came, and we all got ready to attend the Little Gym Halloween party. And although Don Joaquin didn’t cooperate for a second with the drawing of the mustache, he was more than happy to get on the car. But as we approached the site of the party, still inside the car, Joaquin was able to see the Little Gym sign — the “flag of terror” — and he recognized were we were headed, and OH! The terrible twos began…
So after 30 minutes of fierce musketeer battle, we decided to stop torturing D’onjoaquin, who would not shut up or let go of daddy until we were all packed up in the car, ready to leave the place and never come back.
We took him to the park, and I was finally able to get some photos sans–tears.
A week later, it was Halloween for real!… Once more, we got the bollo on his costume, except, this time I had no energy to fight the drawing of a second mustache on that fussy trompa. We went out trick–or–treating to quickly find out Joaquin’s feelings about this new tradition invading his life…
Every single time someone opened his door and DARED to deposit candy on Joaquin’s pumpkin, the little musketeer HATED his life and made a scene I’m not sure most homeowners were prepared to deal with. As Joey wisely put it: For Joaquin, Halloween ruins a perfect walk. Needless to say, we didn’t collect a whole lot of candy.
Nevertheless, I was happy to document my baby’s first time trick–or–treating. I’ll be sure to play this many times to torment him in the future.