Halloween execs sniff glue, Anna runs naked in department stores...what's going on?

Here's a question for the ages: What do Halloween costume execs sniff before making their decisions as to what costumes will be available for toddlers in any given year?

I'm only asking because - well, let me tell you the story, and you decide.

So no shit, there we were, (credit again to our Art Teacher for the catchy introductory phrase) my husband and I and our darling, cherubic (most of the time!) blonde haired, blue-eyed daughter Anna, scouring the aisles of the local Wal Mart for a Halloween costume for the Daughter Unit. And I mean scouring the aisles. There wasn't much to work with.

DH: "What size does she wear, again?"

Me: "Ummm...3T."

DH: "Yep, no, these are all for newborns. Wait, here's one! No, it's a Spider Man costume."

Me: (hopefully) "Well, she could be Spider Man."

DH: "It's too big for her. Wait! 3T? Here are the 3Ts. Let's see...they've got fairy princess" (holds up flimsy, diaphanous outfit complete with wings.)

Me: "Umm...Hon? Yeah. Halloween. It's going to be cold outside. I'm going to go with "no" on the short, see-through gown thing."

DH: " Well, here's Pirate Queen in 3T..."

Me: "How are we supposed to explain to Anna what she is for Halloween? She's too young to understand Johnny Depp!" (Of course, she takes off her shirt for Leonardo Da Vinci at Renaissance Fairs, but that's a whole 'nother story...) To DD: "No, Anna! Put DOWN the skeleton outfit, that's for grownups."

DH: " Um - Melle?" (Holds up long, white thing.) "This is the only other one I can find in 3T."

Me: (looking at mounds of white stuff in DH's hands) "What is it, a ghost?"

DH: " No. It's a bride costume."

Me: (incredulous) "It's a WHAT?!"

DH: " A bride costume. See? It even has a little veil, a bouquet..."

Me: " NO. NO! What crazy, glue sniffing, brown-cracksmoking Halloween executive decided that it would be cool to dress a toddler - a TODDLER - up as a BRIDE?! I mean, who would ever even think of that?!"

DH: " Umm... pedophiles?"

Me: (withering glance) " That's not even close to being funny. No! This is Halloween for God's sake, not a Middle Ages meeting between parents trying to marry off their underaged daughters to the highest bidder! Where are the pumpkin outfits, the ghost outfits, the cute, furry little full-length animal costumes? They had those last year, remember, and Anna was a tiger, and it was so cute? Where are the witch costumes, even, for God's sake?"

DH: (helpfully) " Well, there is the Pirate Queen."

Me: " NO! No pirate queen. Honestly! Who comes up with this stuff? Seriously. I mean - fairy princess, pirate queen, or BRIDE?! And that's IT, that's all the choice we have? They have seventeen different kinds of ORANGE JUICE in this store, and they can't come up with more than three kinds of Halloween outfits for little 2-year old girls?"

We did NOT get a costume that evening.

Instead, we decided to head down to North Carolina over the weekend. They have a Burlington Coat Factory - we were pretty sure we could do better than "pirate queen." Unfortunately, there were no costumes at the BCF - but there WERE adorable little confections of Christmas dresses on sale. We decided to get a Christmas dress. I loaded up a dressing room with about seven of them and Anna started trying them on. Not, however, before she got a chance to see how things worked in a dressing room. There were several men there with their daughters - older than Anna, probably around 8,9,10 years old or so - so, naturally, said fathers were not accompanying their daughters into the dressing rooms. Anna picked up on this right away. With a withering glance and the imperiousness only a 2-year old who's got it all figured out can muster, she pointed to the dressing room door and said authoritatively:

"Daddy, you get OUT, right NOW."

Daddy did NOT join us in the dressing room. He browsed in the men's section instead.

Anna tried on pretty, frilly dress after pretty, frilly dress. After each was safely on and fastened up, she pranced up and down the aisle and did a few spins, reveling in long "swooshy" skirts. But I guess she got bored - or really got into the moment. Because around dress number four, as I was undoing the zipper and trying to get the thing off the hanger, I heard a rustling sound behind me. Turning, I saw my darling daughter's pull-up lying on the floor at my feet, and her bare little tushie and spiderlike legs crawling under the dressing room door.

OMIGOD.

The next thing you know, I hear the thud-thud-thud sound that is Anna's feet when she is running, and an ungodly, high-pitched noise that after a moment revealed itself to be her little voice, continuously exclaiming, rapturously and at its highest pitch:

"ANNA'S A NAKED BABY! ANNA'S A NAKED BABY!"

I opened the dressing room in time to see my darling daughter in her birthday suit, running her little stiff-legged run, waving her arms wildly in the air, screaming her new catchphrase over and over again - and heading onto the next aisle.

I probably should have run right after her and covered her with something. Instead, I did what any mildly insane mother would do in such circumstances. I sat on the dressing room floor and laughed until I almost peed my pants.

Yeah, you know. You remember the first time your child did something like that.

Eventually, things righted themselves. Anna put her diaper back on, we found a dress - we even found an adorable Halloween costume, courtesy of K-Mart, of all places. If you ask my daughter what she's going to be for Halloween, she proudly announces to the entire room, "I'm a widdle ftinker." Which, translated into grownup talk, means a nice, furry, warm, full-body skunk costume complete with pull-over head and wavy little tail.

But I confess - I'm still not sure who's running the show. I just hope it's not those glue-sniffing Halloween execs.