Dress Up.

Raising my kids has been a constant reminder of the silly interests I had growing up. My stupid, and often dangerous, inventions paired with my innocent imagination kept the life intriguing and adventurous. I feel fortunate that Sandler rarely gravitates toward video games or television. He would much rather be outside on his skateboard. Sometimes he likes to take it one step further by being a skateboarding character with special powers that propel him to execute extra difficult tricks.

The apple does not fall far from the tree. As far as enjoying dressing up in costume, both Sandler and I like wearing masks and getups even if there is not a special occasion that merits the attire. He tends to fancy more of the scary and shocking wardrobes, whereas I have always enjoyed wearing anything that challenges people to wonder if I am outfitted as a weirdo on purpose, or if it is just my style. No matter what the case may be, we have quite the collection of disguises; we never miss an opportunity to rock our ensembles.

It took a while for Sandler to understand that wearing a costume while skateboarding is not only unsuitable for the activity, but it can also be quite a hazard. To get him to leave the capes, super hero onesies, and various clown masks behind took some serious bribing, but eventually he was convinced that skateboarding is not the time or place for his other favorite past time: dressing up. However, we rarely go anywhere without an extra bag full of tricks or costumes. When packing up for the day and making sure we have not left anything behind, I am always reminded of one of the funniest stories from my childhood that will follow me for the rest of my life.

I was about Sandler’s age (ten or eleven years old) when I had finished the annual intermountain tennis tournament at the Sands Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas, Nevada. Like Sandler, I had a knack for leaving everything behind; rarely making it from point A to B with both socks on my feet. As my mother always did, she reminded me to look through every single drawer in the bathroom, every corner of the room, and under the bed to make sure I had not forgotten anything. My best friend—who happened to be my doubles partner—and I took the direction and scoured the hotel room from top to bottom.

As I wedged myself partially underneath the bed, I saw a black paper bag filled with what appeared to be a long, flesh colored item. I carefully pulled the bag out from under the bed and called for my friend to come see what was inside. Both our jaws dropped and eyes widened at the sight. I immediately said, “Katie! It’s a baby’s fake leg! Look, it has straps and everything.” I could not believe it. Some family had accidentally left their child’s prosthetic leg under the hotel bed. Katie was a little savvier than I was; after studying the piece and noting how the straps were arranged at the end, she determined it was not a baby’s prosthetic leg at all—but a Pinocchio mask. That made much more sense since we were in Vegas, and lots of people seemed to be in costumes and masks. Naturally, I positioned the flesh colored item onto my face, fastened the straps around my ears, and skipped down the hall to show our moms what we had found.

Between the uncontrollable laughter from seeing a kid innocently sporting an adult toy strapped to her mug, and being told to wash my face (as I had never done so in my entire life), I realized what we had found was not a fake leg nor a mask to be worn on one’s nose. However, it was a story that has continued to be told at many events and will never be forgotten. It has also taught me to be very careful about what Sandler chooses to wear as a mask or costume, yet to also embrace his innocent creativity when putting his ensembles together. That is where the best stories are born.