We went over to the Figs’ house (lifelong friends) last night for Halloween.  The ladies took the kids around the neighborhood to beg for candy while the men stayed behind and watched sports between doorbell rings. After one visit Mr. Fig commented that it didn’t seem quite right to have a boy in an Austin Powers costume. Yeah baby!  I’d have to agree.  Over on his blog Ed Cone wonders how someone can dress their "cherub-cheeked blond boy" as "a cane-wielding floppy-hatted green-velour-clad" pimp.  Ed asks, "What does it say about attitudes toward race and sex for this
cherub-cheeked blond boy to be thusly dressed, beyond the fact that I
am getting old?"

Personally I think we’re lucky that no one thought to dress up the blond boy’s sister as a street walker or Austin Powers’ brother as Fat Bastard.  We may be getting old, but I don’t care if it’s 1947, 1977, 2007 or 2037, dressing a kid up as a swingin’ 60’s era Rumpelstiltskin, a pimp or a ‘ho just ain’t right.  Think maybe this is a little over reaction to a rogue parent with questionable taste dressing up her kid as Shaft’s arch-enemy?  Think again, because you can order your little Johnny his very own pimp outfit in a variety of designs right here among other places. 

Okay, I admit it, I am getting old.  But come on, pimps?  What’s next, meth-head masks?