The night before Halloween Day, we carved our pumpkins and set out our Trick-or-Treat bags and I advised the children to set out their costumes for the morning if they were wearing them to school.
Spirits were high. Excitement was in the air. Then KidI popped her head into our bedroom and asked, “Are my wings in here?”
Forty-five minutes later with “all hands on deck” to search the loft, the office, the bedrooms, the living room, under the couch, under the beds, behind the bathroom door (you’d be surprised how much stuff we actually find back there!), we still couldn’t find those fairy wings.
“When was the last time you saw them?”
“Did you show them to your friends when they were here for your sleepover?”
“I know they were hanging in the family room, but I asked you to put your things away – where did you put them?”
KidA offered her angel wings from last year’s costume. That didn’t help when we couldn’t find that costume either. That led us to the storage boxes of costumes past. Pirates, princesses, Renaissance gowns, capes, hats, masks… not one pair of wings.
By this time, KidI’s mood was quickly deteriorating. There were no wings in the house. It was way, way past her bedtime. We all realized that she’d have to “go wingless” to school tomorrow. We also all felt her disappointment. Her costume just would not be the same.
I kissed her good night and turned off the lights and as I walked down the hallway to my room, I thought of the Ever After movie with Drew Barrymore. How she needed that something more to make her mother’s dress look exactly perfect for the evening party at the King’s castle. Leonardo Da Vinci knew it was those glorious wings. If only I could stay up all night creating, designing, magically producing a pair of wings even better than the ones we mysteriously missing.
We didn’t have any supplies that remotely resembled fairy wings or could make fairy wings. I thought about sending her father out to the store to buy wings, but no — the lesson learned about being responsible for her things was more important right?
The next morning, while KidC and KidA primped as a pirate and My Little Pony, a sad KidI slowly completed her morning routine. I pulled her aside and asked her if she wanted a hug. She shook her head. Quietly she said, “I could be a pirate from the old costumes.”
“Let’s go get the box down right now,” I replied with relief.
As I hugged my Pink Pirate good-bye to catch the school bus, she told me she would tell her friends that “something terrible had happened” and that’s why she was not a fairy.
She handled it well. Oh, and the DH brought home new wings for her to wear to our family party that evening. She was happy and Halloween was a fun night. Of course, I still think about the mom I couldn’t be…