Our budget-conscious mother sewed, cobbled together, or recycled our Halloween costumes, which by 2017 standards isn’t just Earth-friendly, it was life-saving.
Instead of shipping us out the door sheathed in flammable plastic to walk amongst a dark neighborhood rife with candles, she sent us into the night well-equipped to flee the potential razor blades buried in the tiny Mr. Goodbars. And, you see, I have lived to tell the tale. My sister’s children not only have cuddly, maskless costumes, but they tend to ride onto the shelves of Wal-Mart so indestructible we should probably use them to construct hospitals.