For Halloween, a few of us at work decided to dress as Team Hogwarts, and I immediately opted for Ron because 1) he's always appealed to me, and 2) I'm always looking for an excuse to rock the fright wig. I thought I pulled it off remarkably well, with a shuffling walk and tortured spellcasting, but my sister was a little creeped out. Probably because of those dark circles under my eyes, indicative of an October that spent a lot of time with its boot on my throat. Since then, however, I've slept for about 20 hours and eaten a ton of mini-Butterfingers. Never underestimate the restorative power of chemically enhanced peanut butter.
The boys have no idea who Harry Potter is, so they just shrugged it off as another Goofy Thing That Daddy Does. It was a big day for TwoBert, who until now hadn't really grokked the whole Halloween thing. He was enchanted to put on his Spider-Man costume and blend in with all the other pint-sized Spider-Men, and as night fell I felt a lot like Bruce Wayne in that ninja scene in "Batman Begins," praying that I brought the right kid home for dinner.
Dinner was a full-on dress-up at the pizza place, which was as sloppy as you might imagine. The kids were wired up on sugar and more inclined to gesticulate with their food than eat it. I avoided most of the marinara damage, but about halfway through I noticed an unnatural, burning smell--the kind that's a bit unnerving when you're wearing a polyester cape. After a full personal inspection, it was revealed that some other kid had left his Hulk mask on the radiator.
So, anybody looking for a gently used cape, tie, and wand? You can have 'em for the price of shipping. The wig, for reasons that need not be enumerated publicly, stays with me.