I did the unthinkable.  I bought Elie Mae a Halloween costume.

I know, I know. I had planned to sew her the Confederate flag onesie and make her push a small cannon through the streets. I thought this perfect for an 11-month-old.

Alas, I’ve been sucked into the microwave generation. I walked into Old Navy and bought the sprinkled cupcake outfit. It was 50% off, and I was done. Easy.

But I didn’t grow up in store-bought costumes. I grew up with a mom from the Midwestern pot roast generation, where you spend hours, not sewing, but stitch-witching fabric into something almost identifiable.

Case in point: First Grade. I’m not sure what lame-o costumes my friends wore, but I came in a burlap sack with TV Guides stapled to it. And there were brown eyeliner dots all over my face. I was, of course, a couch potato.

Second Grade. I wore an awesome white sweat suit and a big plastic bag filled with white balloons. I was a bag of marshmallows. When my bag sprung a leak during Trick-or-Treat, I was just garbage.

Third Grade. Mom had this terrific idea, this sort of double entendre of Halloween creativity. She stitch-witched bands of white, torn fabric to my clothes and handed me a baby doll. I was a “Mummy.” Get it? “A mummy!” Nevermind.

Fourth Grade. Mom was into boxes. She wrapped a big, empty box in paper and punched a few holes in it for my head and limbs. I was a gift.

Fifth Grade. Mom wasn’t ready to face that iron-on stitching yet. She painted a box blue and stuck some empty bottles and old newspapers around it. I was a recycling bin.

So, you see, I have to step my game up.  I’m thinking of saving the cupcake for Elie Mae’s first birthday party and making her a costume before Monday. Something low maintenance. Something brilliantly abstract that will make up for my lack of design skills. Here are a few ideas I have so far:

1)   A copy of Cain’s 9-9-9 plan.

Pro: We might win the Godfather’s Pizza Halloween Costume Contest.

Con: I’m sure this one’s already been taken.

2)   A shelf of Similac.

Pro: She can feed herself while she trick-or-treats.

Con: To be a true shelf, she’d have to lie horizontally all night. And to be a Similac shelf in our neighborhood Kroger, she’d need a security camera that beeped every time you passed her.

3)   Colic

Pro: Real tears could yield a high return in candy.

Con: No one really knows what colic is (Think: my mummy and doll costume).

4)   Lactose Intolerance

Pro: I just bought a half-gallon of milk and some cheese.

Con: Seriously, I need to tell you?

5)   The Black Church

Pro: White gloves and a nurse’s hat should be easy to find.

Con: Those mint balls you suck on all service are a choking hazard.

Please let me know which costume you think would be best for Elie Mae.