Goodbye, Al Capone!

Had I remembered to photograph him last night, I would have posted a picture of Al Capone (aka Mark) today. It's too late for that, however, as Al Capone's costume is in our garbage receptacle at the curb awaiting trash pick-up tomorrow. The costume is ruined.

All week long Mark pleaded with me to get an Al Capone costume for him. He wanted to dress up for school Friday and for Halloween. I procrastinated, explaining, "When you get caught up on your homework, I will get the costume." The "witching hour" approached and I thought I was off the hook. Thirty minutes before store closing Thursday night, he met his goal.

I headed to the store to play the perennial game "Compete for Last-minute Costumes." I scanned the costume displays and found several Al Capone get-ups. Not a one was Mark's size. Should I get a men's medium (too big) or a boys' medium (too small)? Since the men's was $10 more than the boys', I bought the boys'. It was a risk I was willing to take even knowing the costume was unreturnable.

Back at home, Mark tried on the costume and was pleased as punch even though it was quite small. He couldn't raise his arms above chest level. The bottom of the pants was about 6 inches above his ankles. He looked like a gangly gangster, but a cute one. The white knee-high socks, black dress shoes and black fedora completed the outfit. He wore the outfit to school Friday. (I was afraid that he would rip the seat of his pants if he bent over.)

After class, Zachary and Mark raced to the car to claim the front seat. In their rush, Zach accidentally tripped Mark sending him sprawling on the sidewalk. The pinstripe gangster pants were ripped at the knee and bloodied by the knee wound. Both hands were scraped as well. Through his tears and after a scolding of his brother, Mark forgave Zachary but was devastated that his costume was "ruined." I assured him that the costume could be repaired, but he was unconvinced. It took some explaining to get him to have hope that the costume could be worn again.

Yesterday Mark had more homework to complete, and he asked if I would repair the tear in his costume. Sounding like a broken record, I again said, "I will do it after you finish your homework." Realizing that his fate was in my hands, he sewed the hole closed himself. However, he wasn't allowed to trick-or-treat until the homework was done. He got a late start and finished quickly, getting just enough candy to barely satisfy him. He then attended a party with Lance and me.

Somehow during the course of the evening, the repaired knee hole became unrepaired and grew larger. His costume met a fate similar to one many of Mark's other clothes met over the years--very large, unexplanable holes appeared out of nowhere rendering the clothing beyond repair. The costume was discarded and just memories are left. There are no pictures.