By LaraMoon <laramoon@mac.com>
Rated G
Submitted November 2007
Summary: This is what happens when you put someone else in charge of finding the right costume for you.
Author's Notes:
This was written for the "Guess The Author" challenge, which was held near Halloween and had a costume theme.
It's a little bit of nothing in particular that came to me late at night when I should have been in bed already.
***
I try not to make a face as she shows me the next costume. She's gone through a lot of trouble for this and the last thing in the world I want to do is hurt her feelings, but I'm starting to think maybe putting her in charge wasn't such a good idea after all. It's not like I really had much choice, though, so I've been sucking it up — so far.
"What about that one?" she asks.
I don't suppose there's an easy or a nice way to tell her that this outfit is simply too…out there?
She's shown me two costumes already, neither of which I liked at all. I tried them on because she insisted, and I paraded a little so she could see how I looked in those…things. I even turned around, and around again, letting her get a good impression of my appearance. But from the moment I put each of them on, I already knew there was no way I was going to go anywhere dressed like that. Sure it's a disguise, but I still have some pride!
This one has a mask and — oh, I just don't like those at all. And it's flashy. And it's really very strange looking. I'm not even sure *what* it's supposed to be. But she's brought it out and she's smiling at me encouragingly, so I feel compelled to put it on and model it for her. I stifle a sigh and change into this third costume. I already know I won't like it when I'll look at myself in the mirror.
Sure enough, when I open my eyes and glance at my reflection, I'm almost shocked by what I see. I turn around and face her, shaking my head. She shrugs, and though she's still smiling, I can tell she's getting really tired of this little game. It pains me to have to reject yet another costume, but I really have to. Especially this one. I mean, honestly… I love her, I really do, but that thing is horrendous!
The next one she shows me — and which I try on, obediently — is so awful, we both laugh. I take it off in two seconds flat and stand there, waiting to see if she's got another suggestion. I'm sure she's probably got a few more still. She must have spent a fortune on these. Right, and I'm sure I needed another reason to feel guilty about hating all of them!
This one she's just handed me actually looks good for a change. Who knows, maybe this will be the one. It's about time!
I put it on and, hey, even the mirror thinks this has potential. Yeah, I think this is the right costume for me. It's neither flashy, nor weird, nor does it have any sort of headgear, which I'm definitely happy about.
"What do you think?" I ask her, hopeful.
She sees me smiling and she starts smiling too. Ladies and gentlemen, I believe we have a winner.
Looking me up and down she suddenly smothers a laugh and, trying to keep a straight face, announces, "One thing's for sure. Nobody's going to be looking at your face."
"Mom!" I protest, blushing all the way to my ears.
I can't believe my *mother* was actually checking me out that way. Oh, the humanity!
THE END. In a way…