Terror Behind the Walls 2014 from Terror Behind the Walls on Vimeo.

For some reason I will never understand, the boys were over the moon excited about the outing as they wanted to up the ante from last year’s visit to “The Bates Motel,” a frightening, but local spook house. At the rate they are going, by the time they are seniors in high school, we may have to pay someone to actually torture them for a few hours so that they can continue to climb this fright curve to new heights. I mentioned this idea to Chase to which he informed me that “somewhere in San Diego – you can actually do that!”

San Diego? Really?

Maybe Pittsburgh or Scranton or Rochester, but San Diego? What do they do?  Lock the kids in a room and tell them that there’s rain the forecast tomorrow? But I digress.

Chase and his friends (and anyone else who pays to be frightened) are easy and fun targets because I truly don’t comprehend the appeal. For me, haunted houses and horror movies are right up there with dental work and traffic jams.  Avoid. Avoid. Avoid.  I don’t even like to tell people I have the hiccups because I worry they may try to scare them out of me. About three or four times a year, one of my guys will need to get my attention while I am blow drying my hair. Let’s just say you do NOT want to be that person who approaches me unnoticed and taps me on the shoulder. Ask them. It’s bad.

But this time of year “what scares you most” is a topic on the minds of many. It really is a very intimate question – one that I’ve never really spent much time on in terms of examining my own fears – or the fears of those I love. It’s probably because to do so would reveal vulnerabilities that perhaps aren’t ready for primetime. But then again, there is much to be gained by shining light into our darkest corners. Right?

So here goes.

• I am afraid of bugs, mice, bats and snakes – but only when they are places they are NOT supposed to be – like my family room.
• Per above, I hate being startled. Do not sneak up on me or hide and jump out and yell Boo. If you do, plan a very nimble retreat.
• I think zombies are funny. But those two twin girls in The Shining? Creepy.
• I am NOT afraid of catching Ebola. At all. I’m not afraid of germs. I have now guaranteed that I will ultimately be killed by a germ.
• I am desperately afraid of plane hijackers. Or plane crashes. I have become less afraid of in flight turbulence although I’m still not a fan.
• I am not concerned about bridges but I am afraid of tunnels that go underwater. Not the tunnels themselves but the possibility that they could burst open and drown the people in the cars going through them.
• I am very scared of cancer, more so than any other life threatening disease.
• Sometimes when I walk the dog at night, I am a little scared that the boogie man is waiting for me in the bushes.
• I am not comfortable with Marilyn Manson.
• I have a serious fear of dying – all based entirely around the FOMO once I am gone. I try to pair this fear with a nice swig of hope for an afterlife that really rocks.
• I am mostly frightened of losing people I love, or having them go through any sort of pain. That is what scares me the most. It hits closest to home and is unfortunately an inevitable part of living.

Ironically one of my biggest fears is that making my fright list public will tempt the fates to see if I am speaking the truth. Will writing them here inoculate me against these experiences or create a negative energy that attracts such bad fortune to me? I guess we will see.

But to Chase and his friends, I am so glad that they need to pay hard-earned cash to scare themselves silly. May they stay young and invincible just a little while longer. And let it be years before they can join the club where you can get all of this good old fashioned dread for free.

Keeping in the Halloween spirit this week, I’m still thinking back to great costumes I have known and loved.  

My favorite costumes are those that telegraph the character in a few brilliant props.  I most admire home-made costumes, because come on, anyone with money can go rent or buy something.   As for me, I give highest points for creativity and cleverness. 

The winners, from various chapters of my life:

COLLEGE:  A guy friend threw on a tennis dress, some screw-on earrings he borrowed from me, and carried a Wilson racket.  Voila, Rene Richards.

POST COLLEGE:  Chris and his friend David attended a party as Goofus and Gallant from Highlights.  Chris was unfailing polite and thoughtful, and David was a boor.  They wore nametags reading “Hello, My Name is Gallant, How Are You?” and “F*** You, I’m Goofus.”  To this day, 25 years later, they still get the occasional comment from those who recall their tandem costume.

LITTLE KIDS:  Chris once crafted the world’s greatest cardboard-box-based costume for Ian, who was 3 at the time.  Ian was Thomas the Tank Engine, and the costume was cut, painted, and crafted to perfection.  Sadly, I think we got to 3 front porches before Ian tired of the heavy, cumbersome box, and ditched it.   The same was true of his friend Freddy, who was the green engine.  But the photos live on!  (Come back on Friday, I’ll post the train photos then!)

OLDER KIDS:  Once again, Ian had my favorite elementary school costume.   The neighborhood party was about to begin, and panic was setting in.  We needed something easy, fast!  I suggested Howard Hughes, in his crazy years.  Ian actually knew the reference from Simpsons episodes (everything he knows about history, he learned from Matt Groening), and we whipped around the house finding a robe, rubber gloves, and two Kleenex boxes.  Once the boxes were emptied of tissues, Ian wore them on his feet, just like Howard.  None of the kids at the party got it, but I remember one adult being wowed by his get-up. 

COSTUME I HEARD ABOUT BUT DIDN”T SEE:  My friend Anne answered the doorbell one Halloween night to find two high school girls in dressy attire, holding plastic martini glasses and acting ditzy.  “And who are you?” she asked.  “We’re the Bush twins!”  they responded.  Genius.

And now it’s your turn – please share any costumes you have worn and loved, or seen and admired.

Early on, I learned to stall until almost the very last minute before compiling the elements of the costume – or in the case of cheesy TV and movie characters, buying one.   This delay tactic would would day come back to, you might say, haunt me. 

It was the last-minute costume I pulled together for Hugh when he was in second grade.  Like most kids that year, he wanted to be Harry Potter. 

We already had a tall felt cone-shaped hat, which had been a craft activity at a pre-Halloween party down the street.  Round plastic glasses?  Check.  All we needed was a robe, and a lightning-bolt-shaped scar.

Easy, right?  I even had what I thought was a perfect vintage billowy-type robe hanging in my closet.  It had been sent from Europe by our friend Rob, and was made of sturdy linen.   I used it as a nightgown sometimes.  It pulled over the head, had a placket of buttons with a small red cross embroidered at the bottom, and reached Hugh’s ankles.

There was only one tiny problem.  The robe was white.  Didn’t the students at Hogwarts occasionally wear robes that were not black?  Hugh wasn’t convinced of this, but there we were at the last minute.  No time for RIT dye.

The full horror of this mistake did not dawn on me until the kids were marching down the street in the school costume parade.  Amongst all the wizards in pointed hats and black robes, there was my child, in a pointed hat and a long white robe. 

I heard a dad mutter, “What’s that kid supposed to be, the Grand Wizard of the KKK?” 

Any rejoinder from his wife was lost to the sands of time, as I was fleeing as rapidly as possible from the scene, my face as red as the maple leaves that fell, swirling, mockingly, around me.

Ahhh, Halloween. Some parents love it. Others hate it. Me? I fall somewhere in between, really enjoying parts of it, but often finding myself waiting for the whole thing to be over. Regardless of how you view this pagan holiday, most can not argue that the Halloween path is fraught with obstacles and the danger looms large for, at minimum, one huge freak out from at least one of your children along the way. I mean c’mon, the combination of being totally strung out on candy corn and staying up way past bedtime is a recipe for disaster – and I’m just talking about the adults.

What I have learned during the past 11 years in Mommyville is the following: To survive Halloween, parents must view themselves not as participants in — but as facilitators of — fun. This mentality requires a relaxation of the regular rules, a huge increase in flexibility, and several glasses of red wine.

So here are my personal Top 10 Halloween behaviors that should be avoided by parentswho don’t want their children to melt down like Reeses Peanut Butter cup left in a jeans pocket and run through the clothes dryer:

On Halloween, DO NOT:

1. Ask for input from more than one child on how to carve the single pumpkin. There are no winners here and sharp tools involved.
2. Give out bad candy to neighborhood kids, or worse…no candy. I am told that Jolly Ranchers and Dum-Dum lollipops are bad, anything chocolate is good, and whatever you do, do not give out tooth brushes instead.
3. Force your need for originality and creativity onto your child. We know you want your kid to go as a blackberry or global warming but if they want to be a ninja or a witch for the third year in a row….for God’s sake, let them.
4. Succumb to parental instincts for health and safety. If you child does not want to wear a coat over his or her costume, bulk up underneath and secretly smile when they shiver. But do not say “I told you so.”
5. Over embrace the fun. Grown-ups who get waaaay into Halloween are, for lack of a better term, a little creepy. While some kids love it when their parents join in the revelry, others are justifiably mortified. If they wince at you in the French Maid outfit, put on a sweater and jeans and go as a compliant adult.
6. Enforce the “you may only eat one thing rule” on Halloween night. In the words of my eight year old, that’s just wrong.
7. Assume the dinner time is “business as usual”. Everyone eats standing up, in 5 minutes, if at all. Utensils and chewing are optional.
8. Travel in large packs comprised of multi-aged kids. The little ones fall behind, fall down, and cry while the older kids never look back. Your choice is to scold the older sibling and make them wait begrudgingly for the younger one or pick up your puddle of a little child and try to heal their hurt feelings. Who you choose depends on which hissy fit you are best suited to handle that night.
9. Expect child to utilize every costume accoutrement you shelled out big bucks for. They will not be able to see out of their rubber masks, those creepy hands are no good for picking out the Fun Size 3 Musketeers from the candy bin, and they will tire of holding the fairy wand or large scythe after the second house. Be prepared to carry everything they shed along the way.
10. Allow for side-by-side inventory comparison at night’s end. It doesn’t matter that they went to identical houses, one sibling will always come out ahead. Trading may seem like a good idea, but it NEVER ends well. Don’t go there. Erect a Chinese Wall when inventory begins and – if needed — threaten to combine (YIKES) everyone’s stash into a giant bowl to take to the office the next day. Works every time.

Be safe MoB readers. Thanks for reading.