Pr3++yG33kyTh1ng

Yesterday was Purim.
Gwynyth had been looking forward to dressing up. Her Disney Belle costume made for a passable Esther. In order to celebrate myself, I chose to attend in my traditional Jedi robes.
Fortunately, there were more than a few other adults who chose to dress up as well, so even dressed as a Science Fiction staple I hardly stood out.
We sang songs, watched a play and made a lot of noise every time anyone said "Haman".
Then we took a break to visit Starbucks between the service and class.
The Drive-Thru was packed, so we parked and walked in.
I ordered two (ahem) "venti breve sugar-free no-foam cinnamon dolce lattes" and discussed a variety of whole bean selections with Shana and various members of the staff.
Then Gwynyth approached the counter to watch the process.
Her arrival solicited a round of "ooohs" and "aaahs" and declarations of her cuteness.
She identified herself as Queen Esther and I said we had been to Purim.
As I stepped away from the counter with our drinks, I realized that no one had commented on my outfit.
I was dressed as a Jedi in a Starbucks on Sunday morning nowhere near Halloween and no one seemed to look twice. I tried to put myself in their shoes.
Here was the lesson I took away from this:
A seven-year-old in a princess costume is acceptable and, in fact, appreciated at just about any time of the day in just about any location.
But in a city the size of Houston, a person dressed as a Jedi at an odd-seeming time is probably crazy and likely dangerous as well. I'd avoid eye contact. Seriously, avoid eye contact.
I also learned that Gwynyth will probably never eat Hamantaschen, as apparently the act of stuffing any kind of sweet semi-liquid into a pastry disqualifies it as food to her.
Separately, pastry and sugary goo are both acceptable. Together, they are a nightmare to be avoided as though on fire, no matter how triangular and delicious they look.