I sent a skeleton off to school on Thursday.
A skeleton dressed in a rather dapper broad brimmed hat and a sharp black jacket. He was no slouch when it came to all things sartorial, let me tell you.
What, you may ask, was I doing with a skelton in my house? Furthermore, what was I doing making this wrathe a chicken sandwich, ensuring he had two quid for the bus, his French homework and his P.E. kit? Was I becoming just a little too familiar with the dead for comfort? Had I finally given myself over to the arts of the necromancer?
And what the hell is a skeleton doing playing rugby?
Surely they don’t have the guts (I thank you.)
The truth is, the delightfully excited, dessicated bag of bones that shovelled a bowl of cereal before he sprinted for the door, was my son. And before you begin to worry he’s met with some dreadful accident or he’s a figment of my dark imaginings, don’t worry, he’s alive and well.
But Thursday, you see, dear friends, was World Book Day, a fun excuse (if one were needed) for kids across the UK to leave their school uniform on their bedroom floor (the only place to keep a uniform, of course) and dress as their favourite fictional character.
Over the years, I have witnessed a lot of animals – bears of the Pooh variety, cats in hats, gold loving dragons – a ton of boy wizards with wonky, eyeliner scars on their foreheads and an awful lots of superheroes and fairy princesses.
Call me old fashioned, by I prefer the purer book characters, those less associated with high budget block buster movies and more with their papery origins – the more obscure the better. One of my son’s friends dresses as Death from the Discworld books, which I rather love.
The lazier kids can dress as Greg Heffley from Diary of a Wimpy Kid – and therefore go in their own clothes.
And who was my son, you may ask?
Skulduggery Pleasant, of course.
How is World Book Day celebrated where you live?
And most importantly –
If you were to dress as a fictional character, who would you be?