Every year, the kids' school has a Character Parade in the late winter. Students dress as a character from a fictional book.
In the past, N has been Junie B. Jones, Brittany Chipmunk, the Mad Hatter, and Frannie K. Stein . This year she was Opal from Because of Winn-Dixie.
G decided he wanted to be Wall-E, so I checked out a variety of library books so we could actually read about Wall-E.
And then he began explaining his design for the costume.
Anyone who is a fan of Peter Jackson's films has heard of Weta Workshop. Apparently, even though my son has never heard of Peter Jackson or seen his films, he knows that such an amazing company exists. G also thinks his mother works for said company.
G has vision and is detail-oriented, which are great qualities to have. They are also maddening in a 6-year-old boy who really and truly expects me to somehow weld together a Wall-E likeness using the welding tools and the steel I don't have.
After much discussion, frustration (mine) and tears (his), we came up with this:
He wanted the wheels to look real, so I had to find bulletin board edging. He wanted the eyes to look real, so I had to destroy a pair of sunglasses. I used almost an entire roll of duct tape on this costume.
But he was happy in the end. I was just glad it was over.
G insisted that he have the boot and plant that Wall-E saves. Since he was more or less immobilized, M served as "the cockroach" of sorts, holding the book and boot.
As G walked through the halls, the kids around him marveled at his costume. At one point, the halls were filled with the sound of kids chanting, "WALL-E! WALL-E! WALL-E!" Kids were trying to smack his hand (in high-five fashion) as he walked among them.
As goofy as it sounds, I felt so stinking proud of my little dude, my obsessive, detail-oriented kid whose vision had driven me bonkers but was wowing the kids in his school. It made me feel like he will end up ok, despite all my worries and worst-care scenario stories I play in my head.
After the parade on our way home, I asked him how he felt hearing the kids chant "Wall-E!" He responded in his characteristically G way, "I thought it was kinda ridiculous, and I thought they'd try to kiss me."
The victory, I guess, was all mine to savor.
In the past, N has been Junie B. Jones, Brittany Chipmunk, the Mad Hatter, and Frannie K. Stein . This year she was Opal from Because of Winn-Dixie.
G decided he wanted to be Wall-E, so I checked out a variety of library books so we could actually read about Wall-E.
And then he began explaining his design for the costume.
Anyone who is a fan of Peter Jackson's films has heard of Weta Workshop. Apparently, even though my son has never heard of Peter Jackson or seen his films, he knows that such an amazing company exists. G also thinks his mother works for said company.
G has vision and is detail-oriented, which are great qualities to have. They are also maddening in a 6-year-old boy who really and truly expects me to somehow weld together a Wall-E likeness using the welding tools and the steel I don't have.
After much discussion, frustration (mine) and tears (his), we came up with this:
He wanted the wheels to look real, so I had to find bulletin board edging. He wanted the eyes to look real, so I had to destroy a pair of sunglasses. I used almost an entire roll of duct tape on this costume.
But he was happy in the end. I was just glad it was over.
G insisted that he have the boot and plant that Wall-E saves. Since he was more or less immobilized, M served as "the cockroach" of sorts, holding the book and boot.
As G walked through the halls, the kids around him marveled at his costume. At one point, the halls were filled with the sound of kids chanting, "WALL-E! WALL-E! WALL-E!" Kids were trying to smack his hand (in high-five fashion) as he walked among them.
As goofy as it sounds, I felt so stinking proud of my little dude, my obsessive, detail-oriented kid whose vision had driven me bonkers but was wowing the kids in his school. It made me feel like he will end up ok, despite all my worries and worst-care scenario stories I play in my head.
After the parade on our way home, I asked him how he felt hearing the kids chant "Wall-E!" He responded in his characteristically G way, "I thought it was kinda ridiculous, and I thought they'd try to kiss me."
The victory, I guess, was all mine to savor.
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