Halloween Has Never Been Scarier

When I was a kid, as soon as I smelled the first piece of firewood, wafting into my nasal passage from nearby chimneys, I became sexually aroused. It was surprising at first, then embarrassing later when it was discovered by classmates that the Charlie Brown Pez I was holding in my hand couldn't possibly be in two places at once. Just kidding, mom. But seriously, the month of October, culminating with a holiday that allowed me the luxury of not being my nerd self for an entire day was quite appealing to me. Every year, despite being a glasses-wearer, I'd strap on some mask over my frames and go trick-or-treating at the houses of the girls I had crushes on. It was my only real chance of being within arm's reach of them. Inevitably, their older brother would answer the door in some uninspired football jersey they called a costume and I'd begrudgingly accept my box of raisins and be on my way to the next house, remembering that my crushes were probably out themselves and that's why they didn't answer the door! This analysis went on for several hours until my mother would come running after me, insisting I wear my puffy winter coat and totally unsexy Freaky Freezies gloves. "But mom, can't you see I'm mackin' it to the ladies? I can't do that while wearing these gimmicky accessories!" But of course, she didn't listen. Regardless of my sexless childhood, though, I still managed to enjoy myself quite a bit, right up to the last time I trick-or-treated, at age 17, wearing a Michael Meyers mask and occasionally slumping so people would think I was just a tall fifth-grader. But anyway...

This year was my first Halloween as a father of two. I knew this because I waited until five minutes before leaving the house on Oct. 31st before looking for my costume. And, I have to say, it's a small miracle I found anything at all. Having just moved into a new house last month, it's entirely possible that during the move, I packed my werewolf costume with the Corningware. But just in the nick of time, I found the bin that contained said costume and Antonio's personalized trick-or-treat bag. Hell, I even found Nate's missing boot to complete his costume! Clearly, all proceedings would have been off had I not found all these things at exactly that minute. It was truly a magical moment.

Speaking of magic, for the first time in almost 60 years, we had accumulations of snow on Halloween! And if you don't believe me, check my Facebook news feed, which when it snows is more predictable than a Lifetime flick with an evil, mustached male lead. While this made for some memorable photo ops, it also made for the most dangerous Halloween ever, as we went against the wishes of the police department and dodged downed power lines and risked an electrifying death. Hey, if you can't be a law-defying imbecile on October 31st, when can you be one?

So, despite 3/4 of my neighborhood being out of town, without power or working doorbells, we still managed to pester enough residents to fill half of Antonio's bag (the benefit of being one of five trick-or-treaters in the county is you get the lion's share of the Reese's). And Nate, true to form, didn't make a sound, as he lay completely adorable in his Buzz Lightyear costume, 95% of which was covered up with a blanket (the other downside of it snowing on Halloween). Unfortunately, he's not old enough to grasp the concept of suffering for your art.

Since Antonio and Nate's daycare lost power too, their Halloween parade was postponed and rescheduled for this morning (Nov. 4). Being the dutiful father I am (and having a guiltier conscience than a Catholic nun) I took the morning off to attend said parade and videotape the festivities. I'd remembered that the parade started at 10, so I didn't have to rush them out, and was able to take my time getting them into their respective costumes, which alleviated what would normally be an unyielding panic-fest with me having to track down at least one of their shoes which fell off five minutes after I put it on while grunting "fucking hell" under my breath.

After triple checking to make sure I had all the kids' costume accessories, jackets, food and drinks, I was out the door with them at 9:30, aiming to arrive at day care no later than 9:45, with time to spare before the parade. I walked into the center and noticed no children were around, so I dropped their stuff off in their classrooms and carted them to the gym, where I heard some rumblings. Walking in, I saw the other kids recklessly running around in their costumes. Then, I spotted my sister, who has a son there. We chatted briefly until she casually mentioned, "Yeah, so the parade ended about five minutes ago." WHAT?! Apparently, the actual parade happened at 9:15. The 10:00 event I was remembering was the "after party." After party? What is this, the fucking Source Awards?!! So, thankfully, my sons are both young and naive enough to believe that meandering aimlessly around a gymnasium constitutes a parade, so the only real disappointment I had to deal with (aside from my own) was Sonia's, who now had no video footage of said 9:15 parade. Out of desperation, I tried getting Antonio to stand next to his classmates and take some pictures all in costume. But not only was the camera dead, but asking Antonio to cozy up to his classmates (one of which he nearly belted with a chair two weeks prior) is like asking Rain Man for a chest bump. So, it was a failure on every level. At least I was consistent.

Dejected and demoralized, I left day care and headed for work, aiming to make it just in time for an 11:00 meeting, as I stared into my rear view mirror to the empty seats, feeling like I'd let the boys down, even though they are certainly far more concerned with sticking foreign objects into their mouths. While feeling a bit depressed, I got a mail notification on my Blackberry. The meeting I was rushing to work for was just canceled. So, of the two events my morning revolved around, I attended neither. Then, later on, I found a dead chipmunk in my outdoor garbage can while throwing away a shit diaper. God, I swear sometimes I can hear you laughing at me.

Nate (left) and Antonio (not left) as Buzz and Woody from Toy Story. Facially, they are impersonating each other here...

Till next time, be strong and stay sane. And feel free to share this if you got a decent laugh at my unfortunate expense! Wheels are currently in motion for my debut fiction book, "The Boy in the Wrinkled Shirt" to be available for online purchase. If you enjoy my writing, the biggest compliment you can pay me is by, well, paying me! I mean, isn't that always the biggest compliment? But anyway, stay tuned! I promise it won't cost more than what you'd pay for a beer at Yankee Stadium.

-Joe DeProspero
jdeprospero@gmail.com
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