Most years I would dress up like a gypsy. My mom would lend me her cuff bracelets, I'd put on one of her weird hippy skirts with an obnoxious clinking gold belt, and she'd paint super thick eye brows and a giant fake mole on my face with her eyeliner, because "all gypsies have moles."
This year was different. Mom was feeling crafty and decided to let me choose my own costume for her to make from scratch. I think she was also feeling a little sorry for me because we had just moved to a new school in rural Kentucky and I was a giant loser, literally and figuratively. Lucky for her, my taste has always been simple, yet classic and innovative. It was a no-brainer, I had to be the blue M&M. She stuffed some fluffy cotton in between two circular fabric panels, sewed and fastened them together and put a giant white "M" on the front and back of each. Basically, I was sandwiched in between two blue pillows (you can go ahead and add functional to my repertoire).
So the month before Halloween, my 3rd grade teacher instates this contest where we all have to guess what costume she's going to wear. Which is totally self-centered and nobody cares right? Wrong. We cared. We cared as much as a 3rd grader cares about cooties and Billy Ray Cyrus and Pogs. For 31 long days and nights, we toiled over what Ms. Hammond could be. She was pretty plump and very sweet so I remember thinking she would for sure pick like a pumpkin or a beach ball. I made some pretty solid guesses with the hopes that I would impress the pants off of my 3rd grade love interest, Brady.
October 31, 1995 rolls around and I'm feeling amazing. I dress myself in my standard blue M&M undergarments like denim overalls and a white long sleeve shirt (I really wanted to let the costume do the talking) and head off to school. Because she wants us to be semi-productive that morning, Ms. Hammond makes us wait until lunch time for The Great Costume Reveal. We all retrieve our respective costumes and begin assembly. Because mine is genius, I gently slip it over my head, probably don't even bother to calm my static electrified hair, and take my seat. The suspense is too much. Brady says something stupid and everybody laughs, I probably blush. But then everything goes silent, the door to the bathroom opens and out steps Ms. Hammond...
In a f*cking orange M&M costume.
And just like that, the mole-ridden unibrowed gypsy made a comeback.