I wanted my son to be Haman for Purim. He's the bad guy who wears a black tri-cornered hat after which the pastry hamantaschen is fashioned. Everytime his name is mentioned on Purim, people boo, hiss and rattle their groggers.
I brought home the hat and black tunic from our religious school's costume bin and excitedly showed them to my son. He burst into tears at the suggestion that he dress up as Haman.
"Mommy, I don't want to be the bad guy," he cried, tears of despair running down both cheeks. "I really, really don't want to be the bad guy."
"We can talk about this tomorrow," I reassured him, as bedtime was drawing near. Next morning, my son plaintively called me into his room. "Mom," he said, from his bed. "I just don't want to be the bad guy."
Looking at the clock, I realized I had about 35 minutes to pull together an alternate costume and get myself dressed before I headed off to synagogue to set up for the carnival. My husband would need to manage this one.
I dug into my son's outgrown clothing box and last year's Halloween costumes and came out with some options, then handed the affair over to my husband. I opted to dress myself as the evil Haman.
When my son arrived at the Purim carnival, he proudly showed me his pirate costume. With his black eye patch, bandana, torn clothing and sword, I couldn't help but marvel at how good of a bad guy he made.
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