The Day After

Twenty-seven adults. Twenty kids. Jeanine kept inviting people till the last minute.

Yikes.

One kid showed up unexpectedly. Ben had invited him. His mother walked in, a little surprised.

Uh… I don’t dress like this every Sunday, I said. I was Stevie Wonder Woman. Red boots, too tight velvet wonder woman costume, wig and big sunglasses.

Okay, she smiled. Is it okay to leave him here?

You will have to come pick him up, I said.

No problem, and off she went.

Oh my. I guess my reputation proceeds me. Hopefully, as responsible parent not the hopeless nutcase who loves to play.

Best costume of the night, in my humble opinion, was Sandman. Classic comic book character, it was pulled off to perfection.

I lost Best Cross Dresser to Dale Evans.

She’s not a superhero! I cried foul.

She is to me, responded the lovely gentleman in the red wig and enormous breasts.

I think it was the boobs. Mine were real but the judge got to feel up the fake ones. Next time, no lesbian judge.

Cat woman, Super Geek, UnderDog, Superman, The Wonder Twins, Natasha Fatale, Homophobia Man – never got it if he was pro or against- Umpire Woman, Metallica Man, Xena, Captain Underpants, and my personal favorite, Amamom- a mom armed with a speculum as her weapon. A few cowboys.

I promised no photos. No photos.

I’m not sure I want to remember how silly I looked.

Today I kept thinking about how lucky I am to have such good friends. Ones who tolerate my craziness, odd sense of humor and are willing to be good sports. People who are willing to laugh, be silly, take risks.

It was a great party. Not because of the oysters or the cosmos or the goofy costumes but because of the people.

Next year? Stay tuned… same bat time… same bat channel…