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Costume, Who Needs a Costume?

Little Girl is 7. She loves dressing up and costumes so when it came time to plan for Halloween I expected her to ask for a store-bought option. She did, but when I nixed her choice (No, baby, I refuse to dress my beautiful little girl up as a dead cheerleader) and *she* nixed all the options I had up in the attic, she came up with Plan B. She decided to go out on her own. She would make her costume, she told me. And she did.

She pulled it together from boxes and closets and her sister’s memory box. A pair of jeans I earmarked for charity. A cowboy hat and vest that were in the dress-up box before she was born. A handkerchief that was her sister’s. A white shirt from her closet. The tie from a yoga mat as a lasso. Her brown boots tucked under her jeans. Combined, they turn her into an adorable, homespun cowgirl.

I never cease to amaze at how self-sufficient and strong willed this child is. I hope she won’t feel bad about her homemade costume as she walks among the store-bought Disney Mals and Minnons, but I have a feeling she won’t.

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