She was a black cat with black turtleneck/pants/tail/purchased glittery cat-ear hairband, last year.
A butterfly with wings and matching antennae-like headbands the year before.
I still haven't been able to persuade her to go as a '50's girl, bright pink jacket, poodle skirt and all, a costume still sitting in the closet from one her first grade school dance shows.
So, I hightail it to the local JoAnn Fabrics store, hoping against hope that the 'mouse/rat mask with headband and tail' combo is still there and now on sale, discounted at least 50%. It is.
I gleefully hand over 5 dollars for the set (original price 12.99, though I fail to see if anyone might have been insane enough to buy it at that price.)
M tries on the headband. It consists of a pair of pink centred ears with grey plush backing, grey plu

"Never mind, you can wear it just at the school parade", I suggest.
M:"No, they don't allow masks at school."
Me: "But this isn't a mask that covers your face!"
M pouted. "I like the ears, not the funny thing in front."
Sighing, I give in, pulling out a pair of scissors and carefully trimming away the offending feature. It's now a plain headband with grey/pink plush ears.
This evening, I will walk her around the neighborhood, while her brother has finally tired of the Halloween hoopla and decided to play it cool this year.
He will be sprawling in front of the TV, all legs, with bowlfuls of chips scattered around strategically, watching "The Sixth Sense" DVD.
No more costumes and 'Trick or treat' for him. No more aluminium foil robots, no clowns, Grim Reapers, Darth Mauls, Harry Potters or Invisible Man. All the costumes of yesteryear have gone to the thrift store donation bags, except for the robot, which sits high up on a garage shelf.
S is too sentimental to get rid of that one.