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The madness came in the form of a pervading sense of stress … from the kids

The madness came in the form of a pervading sense of stress, not from the parents (though there was one woman who was convinced her son would asphyxiate in the blow-up dinosaur costume he coveted), but from the kids, as they scrambled to find something to wear that wouldn’t get them kicked out of school. You could almost feel their anxiety.

One little boy snapped at his mother, who brought him a mask to try on: “I already told you, nothing covering the face,” he said, exasperated. “You’re going to get me in trouble.” And even though this is a common school proscription, I felt bad for the mom because it wasn’t like she’d picked up a ghoulish zombie mask or a mask that makes your face look like a bum (this is also a thing). She’d found a ghost mask with a Caspar-level friendly smile and huge eyeholes for maximum visibility. Honest mistake.

But that was nothing compared with the boy in the next aisle. He was standing with his arms crossed, shaking his head, looking one part terrified and one part defiant. His mother was next to him, offering him reassuring words, while struggling to remain patient. “Honey, if clown costumes were against the law, they wouldn’t be selling them. Really!”

Honey, if clown costumes were against the law, they wouldn’t be selling them. Really! Mother to son at Toronto costume store

To my discomfort, my own son showed me a retro Jheri curl wig with a picture of a white guy modelling the wet-looking afro on the packaging (no blackface, thank the God of toupees).

My son’s eyebrows were raised in concern, and he seemed on the verge of an upset utterance, but he spotted a more compelling mullet wig and was off before I could decide whether white guys legitimately wore Jheri curls in the ’80s or this was a head’s worth of culturally offensive phoney hair.