As is our custom in the barn, we waited until the last minute to make the kids’ Halloween costumes. Or, should I say, for Robbi to make them. Our custom dictates that I stand around watching while she does all the work.

Sunday night looked a little like this: the Bernina on the kitchen counter as Robbi tried to wrangle scraps of cloth into something resembling a spider costume.

That’s right, Alden wanted to be a spider. A spider, she informed us, has three arms. We asked her if she was sure and she said that she was. Fortunately, Alden already has two arms. The trick was making a third.

Robbi sewed a cloth tube, but it needed some stuffing.

The cushion from our couch was happy to oblige.

Then, all that was left was attaching the thing.

Flash forward to tonight. One of Robbi’s black socks—stretched way out—made a completely believable black spider head. Robbi added two pink eyes because, well, spiders have eyes.

The third arm was eerily convincing. With the help of fishing twine, it seemed to have life of its own.

Alden’s costume in hand, we turned to Kato. Time for the exciting conclusion of yesterday’s dramatic cliffhanger.

Since Alden was a spider, Kato was, by default, slated to be a fly. He spends most of his life tormented by his big sister. Why not, we thought, extend the metaphor to their Halloween costumes?

Black pants were a must.

And we found a little black vest that someone gave us.

We lacked a black long-sleeved shirt, but since we did not want the little guy to freeze, we let him keep his yellow one on. We are fully aware that flies don’t have yellow arms. This failure to conform to the details of fly anatomy seemed to bother Kato not at all.

What he did mind was putting on his fly cap, made from Robbi’s other black sock.

But after a bit of wrangling, the task was complete.

Or, I should say, almost complete. There was the matter of wings.

Kato wasn’t sure where they were supposed to go.

On the ear?

On top of the head?

Fortunately, Robbi knew. This sort of thing is what qualifies her to be a mother.

While she got to work with a needle and thread…

…Alden cackled maniacally, consumed by the awesome power of her third arm.

At length, we had our spider. And our fly.

At first, they took their new identities quite seriously.

But before long, they were hamming it up like seasoned partners in a Vaudeville routine.

You know, the one about the spider and the fly?

Once the kids were dressed, we headed across the street to eat chili and hand out candy with our friends Donald and Ann. We still haven’t informed Alden and Kato that most kids go around asking other people for candy on Halloween. For now, they are content to distribute it to others.

By the end of the night, they were tuckered out. Socks shed, they hunched against the cabinetry, consuming the last few pieces of candy in the bowl.

I’m guessing this might be the last year that Alden will consent to such a reversal of Halloween fortune. Surely at some point someone is going to let her in on the secret. A year from now, we’ll probably be wrangling with that mountain of sugary loot I remember so well from my own childhood.

For now, though, I’ll let her go on suffering the illusion that the real point of Halloween is dressing up and having fun.