UNDERWEAR SECURELY ON MY HEAD, I WADDLED UP to receive my trophy.

That trophy, the first I̢۪d ever won, cemented in place both my competitive streak and my love of weird costumes.

It had been my parents̢۪ idea to dress my 8-year-old self up like a laundry hamper.

An old, round, plastic hamper was sacrificed for the cause. They cut a hole in the bottom, somehow suspended it from my shoulders, stuffed clothing and empty cleaning supply containers into it, and put a pair of underwear — with a sock glued to it, I believe — upon my head.

My parents also brainstormed my costume the year I was a literal interpretation of then-First Lady Barbara Bush: An armful of fresh-cut rosemary branches poking out of a 24-gallon pot hung from suspenders around my waist.

But it was I who declared my ambition to be a toaster. We spent days figuring out the logistics of cutting into a GE washing machine box so I could wear it around my body and mounting pieces of cardboard to it that would look like toast slices.

One of the toast slices had a cutout for my face, I remember. Raisins glued to the “breadâ€Â and a GE logo carefully lettered by my dad put the finishing touches on the silver spray-painted box.

Wal-Mart Snow White costumes didn̢۪t hold a candle to it.

Even when I did opt for the store-bought costume, there was a spin on it.

Like the time I was 12 and wore a pair of Groucho Marx glasses with a princess gown. I thought it was ridiculous that all princesses had to be beautiful, delicate creatures that swooned as their princes carried them away on white horses.

I wanted to be the one on the horse.

So I donned the glasses and was the Ugly Princess for Halloween that year.

But in the end, it’s the homemade costumes that bring back the most memories, whether it was my dad cutting rosemary for “Barbara Bushâ€Â in the ‘90s or me manufacturing a Viking helmet out of Styrofoam, fake fur and a toy bow and arrow set in ’06.

Imagination is a wonderful thing that̢۪s kept locked up all too often. On this one day of the year, join me in unleashing it for a few hours reminiscent of gleeful childhood.

And don̢۪t forget the sugar. The inner child likes candy, too.

Heather Billings is a senior at Fresno State majoring in mass communication and journalism with emphases in print journalism and digital media.