Let's say your little boy is obsessed with the color purple. "Ur-ul! Ur-ul!" he says approximately every 4.5 minutes, because that's his way of saying "purple." And let's say you are in Bed, Bath & Beyond on a Saturday and a salesperson walks by carrying this extremely large plastic bag. And it is purple. Gloriously, stunningly purple.
"Where's that from?" you hypothetically ask.
"It's from the bridal registry," she hypothetically answers. "You want one?"
You get excited. You're not sure you felt this giddy when you registered for china. Because the wheels are spinning in your head and you are thinking, "Wow, that could make for one cool Halloween costume." You nod enthusiastically and she hands you the bag. You have absolutely no idea what you are going to do with it, but hey, it is big. And it is PURPLE.
Would that be so wrong? Wouldn't your child be purple-tastic, the very thing that would make him happy? Wouldn't it be so recessionista fab of you to make a costume instead of shelling out money for a getup your child will wear for one day? Or would it be denying your child some quintessential child right to an amazing Halloween outfit—one that's not fabricated from a free plastic bag from a housewares store? Would it be Bed, Bath & Beyond Awful?
And, out of curiosity, what sort of costume could one make with a giant purple plastic bag, anyway? Hypothetically speaking, of course.
