My 7-year-old son, Tyler, was in a class play right before he tracked out of second grade for three weeks. Actually, it was more of a conglomeration of all of these fairy tale characters who discover their foils maybe aren't as bad as they once thought.

It's about being kind and not judging people and so on - which I'm so glad they're talking about this early. In the play, Tyler was the giant from Jack and the Beanstalk who realizes that, hey, maybe Jack is not a puny, lying thief after all.

The parents had to provide the costumes. I was fine with it. I knew about it way ahead of time, in fact. So far ahead that it seemed crazy to tackle it then.

Instead, I tackled it the Sunday before the Monday it was due. I know. Spare me the lecture. I did what every kid does who waits until the last minute. I panicked and called my mother.

"I need a giant costume," I said.

"How big?" she asked.

"No! Like the giant from Jack and the Beanstalk! For Tyler. It's for a play."

My mother is extremely talented and creative, not to mention an excellent seamstress. She tried to teach me, but once I realized sewing involved math, I was out. She's made beautiful window treatments for every room in my home and is the master of ideas. I knew she would think of something awesome. She's much better at this kind of stuff, than, say, the science fair.

Every year in elementary school when the science fair came around, she pushed me out the door with an old Jif peanut butter jar filled with some dirt and a plant cutting. Suffice it to say I had a lot of orange "participant" ribbons.

"What does a giant wear?" she asked.

"How should I know?" I said. Tyler had asked me the same thing.

"Try to find some pictures of giants," my mom suggested.

I sighed. "I have! They're just big ... men in regular clothes."

"Do giants wear hats?"

"No."

"Do they have facial hair?"

"Mom, I don't know. I don't think so." A pig or a bear would have been so much easier.

"We could make a sign that says 'GIANT' and pin it to him," she said.

It was the Jif jar all over again.

"Mom! We have to do better than that."

And we did. Well, she did.

I found an old green shirt at Goodwill, and she glued Polyfill on the inside to make Tyler look big. We cut jagged edges into the hem and did the same with an old pair of black pants. My mom found an old drapery cord we used as a belt. Then we took big gloves and stuffed the tips so Tyler's hands would look big and topped off the look with a black skull cap.

He looked great - exactly like a giant. Or an overweight felon.

Anyway, Tyler's classmates liked it, too. At the first dress rehearsal, they unraveled his rope belt and several begged to try on the itchy, puffy shirt which shed a trail of white cloud-like fibers.

Mission accomplished. Thanks, mom.