Today, I went to work. But no one could find me. Even in a crowd, I can be hard to spot.
Give up? Here I am!
(For my international readers, here’s a bigger hint.)
As you no doubt guessed, I am far too cheap to buy a Waldo costume. So I pieced this one together via eBay, the thrift store, and my own craft stash. I think it turned out swell.
But it’s not my favorite. I experienced the perfect costume early in my life, at the tender age of 9. I wasn’t fully able to appreciate the awesomeness of the costume at the time. And since I didn’t embarrass myself enough yesterday with the awesome Flashdance photo, feast your eyes on this, friends.
I’m a bookworm.
Let it sink it a minute.
What this grainy photo does not show is the ridiculously huge grin on my face. I loved every minute I spent in that costume. It was pure genius.
I loved it then and I love it now. If I still had it, I would wear it, proudly.
What I love the most (besides the green pipe cleaner antennae) is that my 34-year-old self recognizes grown-up Christine in that little girl. She loved reading, devoured books as quickly as she could get her hands on them.
She didn’t want a prefab princess costume from Target. She wanted to be unique, to do her own thing. I was independent and stubborn and different even when I was 9. I’m still all of those things. And the bookworm grew up (sort of) and got a Ph.D. Pretty cool.