Halloween gives you a lot of insight into people in general. It’s enlightening to see how people will dress when all bets are off and it’s socially acceptable to dress like Snooki from Jersey Shore. This year I have watched and listened to my daughters in silence as their personalities have poofed out of their little bodies and into real life like some sort of Disney movie.

Aubrey decided three months ago for that she wanted to be a Southern Belle for Halloween. There was no princess dress that cut the mustard. No, that simply would not do, dahling. We needed hoop skirts, and a Big Hat— not unlike her Momma’s Big Straw Hat of yore.

I searched high and low (but mostly low, we’re on a budget, you know) for the perfect and affordable costume and finally found it at Target. It is Pepto-Bismal pink, has hoops that bounce when she walks and a hat that shades her body in a six foot radius. She puts on her hoop skirts and church shoes at least once a day and walks around the house, curls swishing and giggles into her hands. Well, I declare, it’s the perfect costume for her.

Emma, my future CIA agent/mechanical engineer/ assassin/ stunt woman, didn’t even wait for me to ask her what she wanted to be this year. As soon as the first fall catalogue landed in our mail box she’s been saying, “I wanna be a girl cop.” I took one look at the picture in the magazine and knew exactly what was drawing her to the costume.

“You just want the handcuffs.” I said staring her down.

She tried not to smile and her eyes went wide, “No! I really want to be a girl cop!”

I raised my eyebrows. Emma’s love for anything with a lock and a key is world renowned— it is now, anyway.

“Well, I do want da handcuffs, too. But I weally want to be a girl cop.”

Thanks to Wal-Mart, her Halloween dreams are coming true.

Although she’s already lost the key to her cuffs, which we realized after she snapped them expertly on Sister Wife’s wrists. I heard the click and spun around just as Emma cinched the second cuff around my best friends’ right hand.

“Oh no! EMMA! Where is the key!?”

Time froze as Emma stared into Wifey’s eyes, both of them in disbelief. They turned in slow motion to stare at me. I doubled over laughing, tears streaming down my cheeks.

“I’m not sure how I’m going to carry Annie,” Sister Wife said referring to her three-year-old, but at least I can still drive.

I finally quit laughing long enough to call my husband into the house, where he introduced us to a little safety feature that released the cuffs… and Sister Wife.

My almost three-year-old was just as decisive as her sisters but much easier to please.

“Sadie what do you want to be for Halloween?” I asked.

“A punkin! A weally siwwy punkin!” She giggled.

It was all I could do to keep from punching my fists in the air and yelling, “VICTORY!!”

When Aubrey was barely walking, I bought a pumpkin costume at consignment shop for ten bucks. Sadie donning the costume this year will mean that all of my children have worn that pumpkin outfit at least twice as an official costume. Best ten dollars I’ve ever spent.

I’m sure that Halloween is going to get scary at my house in a few years. I imagine I’ll be saying, “You will absolutely NOT wear that out of the house!” and, “You want to be WHAT for Halloween?” are coming. But for now, I’m going to enjoy eating dinner with Miss Scarlet every night, laughing at my last silly pumpkin and fall asleep every night with the assurance that there is a crime fighter under my very own roof— ready to cuff anyone who steps out of line. (Or doesn’t.)

What are your kids going to be for Halloween? (Which Aubrey helpfully explained to me last week is really, “The devil’s birthday.” Thanks Mom.)