It's September 30th, so I'm Preemptively Ranting about Halloween

I love Halloween. I love pumpkins, I love costumes, I love all the candy the kids don't like that I get to eat.

I hate shopping for costumes, on line and in stores.  I really hate it with children.

Why?  Because the stores all sell the same thing, and worse, they have the obligatory creepy bloody display which terrifies my younger kids, grosses out the older ones and ensures I lose sleep because somebody has nightmares.

So Sherry you're thinking, go to the online stores, but even that's risky.  Why?  The webpages can't resist having sidebar costumes wildly inappropriate for everyone.  

I'm going to get asked about the Adam and Eve costumes, or the Sexy Pickachu Costume or the Bloody Daniel Tiger Costume, I'll get asked why there are 15 million girl costumes and ten options for boys.  I'll get asked why every boy must be a superhero or a ninja or a superhero ninja, and why every girl costume has  v-neck and/or is pink and sparkly.   Some of these questions will be from teens who need further clarification, some will be from kids who feel bewildered by the become a skeevy Carny for Halloween pitch, and worst of all, will be the kids who don't know why something is wrong, and want "that costume."

It's almost enough to make me learn to sew.

But not quite enough, so I tried typing in some qualified searches, but the word Innocent with costumes...doesn't work well.  I was very grateful no children saw the results.    I'm rather scared to research what chaste+costumes might conjure.  You can find decent stuff with children+costume.  I don't need my kids to dress up as saints or people from the old testament or Veggie Tales or even Lord of the Rings, but I would like a policewoman to look like a policewoman and not a pole dancer, and Batgirl, a personal favorite, to not require my daughter have hit the gym more than Barbara Gordon.   Every costume is a skin tight catsuit.  It's just the colors of the sequins that vary.

That sewing needle is mocking me.  I can hear it from its lonely former cookie tin, lost amongst extra buttons and thread.  

Wonder if I can convince any of them to be old fashioned ghosts?  I've got some extra sheets we could use.