True confessions

I have a confession to make: I’m not the wonderful person I appear to be. The truth is, I’ve done some very bad things.

I don’t enjoy having to drag my skeletons out of the closet where they’ve been resting happily for decades, but I realize that it’s time to come clean. Who knows? One day I may decide to run for office, and it’s far better that I share my transgressions with the world today than to have Time Magazine do it for me just before my big election. We all know how disastrous it can be when that happens!

The truth is, I can’t even count the number of times over the years that I dressed up as a ghost or a witch or an old woman or an old man for Halloween.

I’m so sorry! I should have known at the time that it was wrong, but I didn’t. I hope it isn’t too late to undo the pain I caused by apologizing to all ghosts and witches and elderly cross-dressers whom I may have offended. I’m sorry!

Once, for a costume party, we cut a huge wind-up key out of cardboard, covered it with foil, and attached it to the back of my ex-husband's shirt. His name is Ota, and our friends thought turning him into a Toy Ota was clever. I went as a mechanic, complete with stained overalls and a toolbox. I apologize to all Japanese car makers and auto mechanics we may have offended. My only excuse is that it was a different time, we lived a privileged life, and we didn’t know any better. I would never do such a thing today.

Shortly after that party, we visited Morocco. The heavily veiled women in their long burqas fascinated me so much that I bought a beautifully embroidered burqa to wear as a dressing gown. For our next costume party, I fashioned a veil from a matching scarf, put on the burqa, and went as an Arabic woman. What can I say? I’m so ashamed!

I have a Japanese kimono, complete with traditional shoes and obi, hidden away in a drawer. They were given to me by a Japanese friend who smiled and took a photo when she had me put them on and model them for her, but I know now that her smile was just to hide the humiliation she felt, and I promise never to wear them again … even in the privacy of my own home.

It gets worse, I’m afraid. One year when I was teaching Grade 8, several of my students were fans of a hip-hop group called NWA and – I shudder to think of it – I borrowed my son's Doc Martin boots and dressed for Halloween as TWA (Teacher with Attitude).

I sincerely apologize to all people with attitude for my transgression. It was not my intention to offend my students and send them into therapy for the rest of their lives, and I’m sincerely sorry.

Thank you for reading my confession. What a relief it’s been to confess my past insensitivities! Now I know exactly how Justin Trudeau feels.

The poor man’s judgement is almost as bad as mine used to be, but the way I see it, we're going to be stuck with one of two choices for prime minister this coming election: Mr. Dress-Up or Mini-Trump.

Personally, I'd rather hold my nose and vote for Mr. DressUp. Eleanor Hora is a resident of Stanley Bridge.