Normally on Halloween I like to dress as something sexy. As per tradition, I head over to my sisters' house to hand out candy, so she’s free to wander the streets of High Park with her little goblin. But last night I wasn’t feeling remotely flirty, so it was Jane Goodall who headed across town, complete with a bag of monkeys and a sensible hat.
I must admit, it made me a cross. We bald ladies are vulnerable to the occasional hair crisis, but we work hard to be strong and subtle, and it cheapens all our efforts to have someone toss an ugly Adjustable Chin Strap our way, as though it’s going to save the day. Neither Jane nor I were to be bothered with such nonsense. We could keep our hair on just fine without the ‘Hairess Corporation’. We are resourcefull gals. And smart. All we need are brains and a Tilley hat.
|Proper Jungle Attire|
Fueled by something other than self-pity, I stood proudly on my sister’s front porch, a monkey on my hip, and my hair in a sensible pony tail. Though I missed my kitten-ish outfits from previous years, I was warm, comfortable and dressed as someone brilliant. However, none of the kids knew who I was, and many didn’t even bother looking up. They just grunted something primordial, and held open their giant pillowcases. To them I offered meagre rations. Then one beautiful princess with long blonde hair scrambled ups the stairs, guarded by her mother. “You’re Jane Goodall!” said the mom. The clever princess looked up at me, broke into a big smile, and squealed. “ I LOVE Jane Goodall.”
Thank you pretty princess, I love you too. Have a bowl of candy.