Costumes really aren’t our thang, if you know what I mean. We’re like the scrooges of Halloween. But when we got a neighborhood invitation to a family-friendly Halloween party I decided we should at least try to play along and not be fuddy-duddies. But what to do? We don’t exactly store a collection of costumes in a closet from which to select.
Enter the Punny Costume.
I remembered the idea from a friend whose husband once attended a work party dressed as a Royal Flush: he put a crown on his head and carried around a toilet plunger.
Or maybe that’s what he considered but opted for the, er, non-potty focus as the King of Hearts instead. I can’t recall for sure. (Same idea, just plaster paper hearts on your body.)
I googled for a few more ideas:
- Fashion a hat or a whole costume as a salt shaker and carry a fake (and preferably bloody) knife or something similar: Assault With a Deadly Weapon. (You could pair this as a couple with a Battery.)
- Take a bunch of smarties and attach them to your bum: Smart-a$$.
- Wear a slip and hang a placard (or attach a sign) saying, “Freud”: Freudian Slip.
- Wear a suit with a sign that says, “Law”: Lawsuit.
- Write/paint “book” across your face: Facebook.
- Draw a picture of a quarter and hang it on your back: Quarterback.
- Wear a toga decorated with croutons and Romaine lettuce: Caesar Salad.
- Wear a crown and decorate yourself with names of baseball fields: King/Queen of Diamonds. (And you’d be such a card to boot.)
- Family members dress in different shades of green: Mixed Greens.
- Decorate yourself with small cereal boxes, shredded and torn up: Serial Killer.
- Write or tape numbers all over your clothes: Someone You Can Count On.
- Decorate yourself with pictures of chicks: Chick Magnet.
What We Wore
If I’d gotten the number idea before the party I probably would have chosen that one for the *obvious* factor along with the ease of implementation. As it was, I went with…
What? You can’t tell? Yea. If I’d spent more than five minutes on it before rushing out the door it might have helped. Let me give you a closer look. With labels.
Still not sure? *sigh*
I was Under the Weather, people! Sheesh. Tough crowd.
Don’t feel bad: when I told one person at the party that I was Under the Weather, she touched my arm with such compassion and told me so sincerely that she was sorry, I was sort of sorry I had to tell her it was a pun.
Actually, a few people at the party did get it, which was impressive considering the poor quality of the weather conditions [da-da dum] and the sheer volume of wild banshees running around our feet. If I were to do this pun again, I would print out better quality pictures of different weather conditions and have them dangle a bit from the hat.
John’s trying to act out his pun… a takeoff from Smart-a$$, but more family- (and sitting-) friendly…
Just as simple as (but definitely an improvement over) the idea he had of putting a plastic blob of fake poop on his head…
(I’ll let you figure that one out.)
(Luckily, we didn’t have any.)
(Fake poop, that is.)
We even got Conner to play along!
Just don’t expect him to smile about it. It was quite a serious matter, the Exodus and all those Egyptian soldiers dying and all. You know.
Olivia elected not to be a pun (though it was a fun educational moment explaining what one is) even though her ready-made costume as a witch is totally screaming to be one…
Hang a few bags of sand on her and you’ve got yourself a Sandwich.
Peter’s little 6yo mind can’t yet grasp the subtleties of punnery (although he did like the idea of going as a Holy Ghost) (wearing a sheet with a bunch of holes cut out) and was quite content to go with Batman for, yes, the third year in a row. (And judging by the pant creep, the last.)
And Batman is quite simply… Batman. At least, I’m all punned-out. I got nothing.
How about you? Any more punny ideas for costumes out there? Do share! (Warning: it’s addicting.)
(Oh, and the cost of not being fuddy-duddies? $0.00. If you consider — as I do — that the smarties contribute to the trick-or-treating stash needed for the herd of military brats we fully expect to ring our doorbell come tomorrow evening.)