Last week as my dad walked toward me on the dock I couldn’t help but laugh. There he was, Jack Sparrow incarnate, grinning wide, willing me to acknowledge what a great pirate he was.

He had just finished captaining his bi-weekly “Most Excellent Pirate Expedition” cruise. Minutes before, 50 sword-wielding, eye-patch-wearing kids had disembarked the boat and went running up the ramp to find the “treasure” (but not before stopping to ask me, “Arrrrrrrr ye a good pirate or a bad pirate?).

“So what do you think of your old dad dressed up like a pirate?” he asked.

“Well, you do make a great pirate,” I replied.

“This doesn’t even phase you, does it?” he continued, nodding to his costume.

I smiled and shook my head.

“You grew up in quite an interesting home, didn’t you,” he laughed. “This kind of stuff is just normal, huh?”

And it’s true. With an actress/singer/music teacher for a mother and a composer/bass player/captain as a father–let’s just say … things were creative.

I never thought twice when my mother left the house in broad daylight dressed up like a clown, or a rabbit, or a cat. And dad as a pirate? Well, I didn’t even bat an eye. (You should see the two of them as Raggedy Ann and Andy.)

The vast majority of my childhood memories revolve around the shows and concerts mom and dad were in. Life just bobbled back and forth between the harbour and the theater. And I loved hanging out backstage in the dressing rooms–the glow of the light bulb-lined mirrors illuminating the ladies as they applied their lashes and lipstick before slipping into their fantastic costumes. And soon enough, it was us three girls staring in the mirrors.

Well. We may not have light bulb-lined mirrors at our house (Mom: we should totally get some of those. How fun would that be?!), but through the years, our family has amassed quite a fantastic dress up closet. Chuck full of sequins and feathers, there is a costume for every occasion and every age. From spiders to Spanish senoritas, we’ve got the wigs, hats, gowns, and capes from just about every Halloween costume (mom sewed them all), every dance recital, and every show.

And said closet? Is in my room.

This spells hours of fun on a lazy Sunday afternoon. I thought you might like to see a few of my favorites:

Moral of the story?

Start a costume closet for your kids today.