I have this genius idea--one I actually stole from a student-- that my husband could dress as Colonel Mustard and I'd go as Mrs. Peacock from the board game, "Clue." We decide that, although a brilliant idea, it is too complicated (and nobody would remember that game).
My husband begins implementing his plan; he starts searching the Internet for "bear suits."
I repeat: bear suits.
He actually wants us to go to this party as bears. I smile politely and then leave for the costume store.
|Lederhosen / Wikipedia Commons / Public Domain|
Think actual leather breeches and embroidered suspenders. And a little hat.
I rush home and tell him about this costume. I have it being held for 24 hours with his name on it.
"You could be Hansel! From Hansel and Gretel? You know, Hansel?" I'm nodding my head and shaking his arm back and forth.
"I'm not going to be Hansel," he says firmly.
"But it's so adorable! Honey, please be Hansel."
"I can't be Hansel," he says again.
I'm crushed. I'm devastated. He'd be the most wonderful Hansel.
A day goes by. I'm still crushed. And just about the time I'm going to search for more impressive costumes (Gandalf, Dumbledore, Batman) or else begin an ebay search for bear suits, I get a text message from him.
"I'll be Hansel."
I call him back, and say, "Really? Will you really be Hansel?"
He says, "Yes, I'll be Hansel. I know how much this means to you."
It turns out that other husbands (the ones who we arrange playdates for), perhaps in an act of solidarity, are encouraging his decision. At least one is seriously considering going as Hansel--standing side-by-side with my husband. Maybe they'll be a whole neighborhood throng of German men in lederhosen.
But I would have been a bear for him.