Ingredients: one pre-made fleecy hat with ears, two flat shiny black beads with an uncanny resemblance to an unblinking marsupial gaze, some cheap felt, needle, thread, and (this was the bit I was proudest of) some upholstery fringe. Also one naptime.
It is not clear to me what the intended proper purpose of that sort of fringe is. Lampshades? The edge of a pillow? Anything I can think of seems kind of lunatic. (Lunatic FRINGE! Oh god. I didn't mean to do that, but it's so brilliantly stupid I think I'll leave it.)
Add one infant. Result!
Why a koala, particularly? Oh, right. She's missing the rest of her costume there--namely, me.
If only I'd thought to gather some fallen eucalyptus boughs last time I was on campus. They might have been good for beating down the cold I've been brewing up all weekend, too. (Go away, cold.)
There were lots of cute moppets in costume on display downtown in the afternoon, but it seemed at first that trick or treat was a huge bust, and I was very sad. Morose, even. But no! Everyone was just waiting long enough to psych me out. There was a good hour or so of very concentrated activity, starting later than I was used to.
Earlier today, R. at the coffee shop, who first suggested the koala costume you see here, said, "What is up with all these kids in Scream outfits? Have they even seen Scream?"
And truly, there were a lot of those masks out there. Soon enough, there was a group of at least five eight-year-olds in varying states of Scream deshabille on our own doorstep. "Ah, a whole bunch of Screams!" I observed.
"How did you know?" said the lead kid, amazed. "Have you seen that movie?"
"Yeah. Have you?"
"Yeah! I saw Scream one. And two! I wanna see three."
So I guess that clears that up. And now all the little kids have given way to teenagers and older on their way to parties, so we have closed up shop. As Steve said, "When it turns into 'Hey bitch! Cross the fuckin' street! ...ooh, can I have some candy?' it's not really trick-or-treating anymore." Maybe they will be horribly yet self-referentially murdered. Sorry, teens! If you had stuck with koala hats, Skeet Ulrich might have spared you.
PS. The subjects of this Wikipedia "photo of bears doing it," as Drew put it, are hilariously desultory. Just thought you should know.