Halloween the Final Chapter

black boo box
Photo by Jillian Morkan on Pexels.com

Fast forward. I’m 20 and pregnant. I can’t go parkin’ in Cry Baby Holler, and I’m far too old for trick or treating. What to do? Go to the harvest costume dance of course. I was pretty rotund for only being four months along, so the issue of an appropriate costume was a task. I guess I could have gone as a The Great Pumpkin. But orange? Blech! After much debate and thought, I went as one of Santa’s nice plump elves. I donned my red footed jammies, tossed on a Santa hat and voila! instant costume. My Dad even fixed it so I wouldn’t slip and fall. He put two-sided masking tape on the bottoms of my jammie feet. This would be my last Halloween as a “kid.” The next year was my first as a mommy.

That’s been almost 30 years ago. Now I’m a grandma and the cycle has reset itself. But what a great thing to enjoy all the fun as an adult. Over the years we trick or treated at a few bases to include one in Japan. That was a blast! While I sent MarshFox out with the kid, I passed out treat to the throngs of locals allowed aboard base for the festivities. Good times. Now the nest is empty and we usually eat something sinful and pass out treat until nothing’s left and we have to turn off the porch light. Then what? Well, certainly not scary movies. I do not watch scary movies anymore–well, quite frankly because I was magically turned into a fraidy cat chicken butt in an instant and the blink of an eye. Shamefully, I will now reveal to you what so completely and utterly ruined it for me.

While stationed at a base in Missouri, we lived next door to my sister and her husband. They didn’t have kids yet, leaving plenty of time to think up ways to frighten their neighbors–ie ME. They knew that MarshFox was often gone all night. On one of these dark and quiet nights, I put our wee son to bed and for some reason got the bright idea I would watch Scream all by myself like a big girl. Can you say dumb ass, friends? I can freely admit just how unreasonable and stupid this idea was. It just so happened my patio door faced my sister’s place. Her husband saw me watching that blasted movie and right at the point the girl sees her guy gutted on her patio, he gives me a ring on the tele. Idiot me jumps to the moon and, sweating and gasping, answered the phone. And a villainous voiced answered: “I know what you’re doing in there….I can see you…” silence. Can anyone say Depends?

As you can most likely ascertain, that’s reason enough to leave anything paracreepy alone. Especially with MarshFox gone so much. It’s not worth sitting in the middle of the bed all alone with the covers pulled up to just under my nose, all the while my eyes darting and cold sweat dripping off me as I look for the bogeyman. No thanks!

Whatever your traditions, however you celebrate, I hope you have a great Halloween. Be safe and have fun!


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