Many years ago, when my children were young and sometimes bored on rainy Saturdays, an elderly lady in our church gave them a little suitcase full of old hats, ties, scarves, and jewels. It was an old suitcase, much repaired and spray painted a dull brown, but it served its purpose and more, making an appearance twice a year during junior high and high school dress-up days, and occasionally even being used as a play prop.
This fall, I decided that the time had come to pass it on to the next generation. When I dragged it from the attic, I realized that the 115 degree temperatures and dry conditions we had this summer had taken their toll. It was in need of glue, lots of glue, and paint--preferably gold and sparkly. So I painted. Claye and I searched for the smallest costumes, and we took it to Missouri, stuffed and sturdy.
When we arrived, it was two days before Halloween. Zaya and Mim weren't going trick-or treating, but they had a little party to attend, and had already planned costumes for that. Zaya was going as a black hole. His mom had painted a black sweatshirt with "glow in the dark" planets, the USS Enterprise, a Looney Tunes rocket, the death star, and some Ty fighters all being drawn into the swirling center of Zaya's stomach. He donned black hat, pants, shoes, and gloves and went around saying "Fear Me!". Occasionally he would grab something or someone and say "Schluck" as he pulled them toward the void.
The next morning we opened the trunk again, and the grandkids played "Newsies".
Zaya ran around yelling, "Pape, Mum, buy a pape?" and Mim played two roles: the office supplier and money collector, and the wealthy client who not only bought a pape, but adopted the poor little paper boy and took him into her home...
where she entertained him by being a royal jester.