Being Steve Irwin
Julie and I are among the handful of parents that dress up for the Salem Liberty Elementary School Halloween party. I mean, why should Liam and Phoebe have all the fun? Hours before the party, as I was rummaging through our basement for a costume idea, I came across our medium-large and very lifelike plastic crocodile. "Crikey! That's my bloody costume, mate!" suddenly came forth from my mouth. I had morphed into Steve Irwin, The Crocodile Hunter. Moments later I was wriggling into some short-shorts and donning my hiking boots with white sox.
But I needed a few other crucial elements: Dirty-blonde mullet wig? Check
Aussie bush hat (to help people understand my costume)? Check
Attractive female American naturalist wife? Check
A naked baby doll made the outfit complete (Steve dangled his newborn child over a huge, hungry croc at his compound a few years ago. Immediately inviting comparisons with Michael Jackson.)
Here's a picture of our nuclear family shortly after we each won prizes for our costumes.
Phoebe is a red hat lady. Liam is a pterodactyl.
Crikey! That croc's got my Bay-by!