Everything Comes With A Price

Last weekend, we attended what may have been The Greatest Fall Festival Ever. Why? Everything was free.

Food? Free burgers, hot dogs, drinks, and baked goods.

Entertainment? Games, hayrides, face painting, clowns, jump houses, and pumpkin carving. Totally free.

And as an unexpected bonus, there were free Hummer rides (free Hummer rides, not free hummers; that would have definitely made it The Greatest Fall Festival Ever). An Army Hummer took you up and down a big, bumpy hill. The kids and I enjoyed this very much. Ella was unimpressed.

We all had a great time. We played plenty of games and ate lots of food. The kids had fun with the clowns and the face painting.

And it was all totally free!

Well… not quite.

The event was held at a preschool. Normally, schools hold these fall festivals to raise money for their schools. This preschool was holding their fall festival to increase awareness of their program.

In other words, they wanted your kids to attend their preschool.

It was like one of those "Free Three-Day Orlando Vacation" deals where you only have to listen to a ninety-minute presentation about a condo which eventually morphs into a high-pressure, hard-sell situation that leaves the vacationer in tears or owning a new condo he never wanted. Or both.

So we listened to their propaganda. We toured the facility. We feigned interest in the program. In the end, we told them that while we were impressed with their program, we were quite happy with Zed's current preschool.

And then we swiped four cookies on our way out the door.

Song of the day: Rocket Queen by Guns N' Roses

Halloween Night

Last night after we went trick-or-treating, Zoey and I sat on our front steps and gave out candy to the trick-or-treaters. It was different this year. They blocked off the top of our street, so we basically only got foot traffic this year. Normally, around 8:00 PM, pickup trucks with about ten kids in the back drive through the neighborhood, looking for treats.

Homemade costumes are officially dead. Everyone was either a Spider-Man, a princess of some kind, a monster, or, like myself, Hannah Montana. Every once in awhile, a slice of pepperoni pizza or a bowl of fruit would show up at our home, but for the most part, we were stuck with licensed characters (this coming from the guy who was Hannah Montana and whose daughter was Hello Kitty). We also had the usual teens and preteens that didn't even bother dressing up; they just came up carrying their Wal-Mart plastic bags. One punkass couldn't even be bothered with a plastic sack; he just came to our steps and stuck out his empty hand. Some people take all the fun out of Halloween.

There was one little kid who stood out for me. He wore a curly wig, a sport coat, and a tie. His parents waited by the curb as he marched up to our steps. He was very animated and made Zoey and I laugh. I had never met such a cocksure three-year-old. This kid, along with a teenager who looked at me and then sarcastically told Zoey, "Dude, your Mom's hot," made putting up with all the non-costumed bastards worthwhile.

Zoey had a lot of fun looking at the costumes and handing out candy. Every once in awhile, someone would comment on how cute she looked, and she would act all demure (which is totally an act). It made her feel good, so she decided to share the wealth. When little kids would come to our steps, she would say, "I like your costume" and the kids would giggle or thank her.

But soon, she was saying it to everyone. Finally, after Zoey told some twelve-year-old girl wearing a clown's nose that she had a nice costume, I decided to explain to Zoey that while it's nice to compliment people, we shouldn't do it if we don't really mean it. I'd much rather hear her tell some kid his costume sucked than faked sincerity.

So yeah, she ate a lot of candy last night, but I'd like to think she walked away from Halloween with a little more than a bellyache.

Song of the day: Do They Know It's Halloween? by The North American Halloween Prevention Initiative

Halloween Safety Guide: How To Successfully Survive A Monster Attack

It's almost time for Halloween, the one night of the year where monsters are free (and encouraged!) to roam the Earth. As a public service announcement to my six readers, I thought I would share this guide on how to kill various monsters.

Be safe!

Aliens
Most aliens are soft, squishy little things that are unable to cause much harm. They can be easily thwarted by simple objects like water (Signs) and Slim Pickens recordings (Mars Attacks!). And is just me, or did it look like you could kill one of the aliens from Close Encounters Of The Third Kind by sneezing on it?

But if you find yourself face-to-face with the alien from Alien, you're on your own.

Axe (Or Any Other Sharp Object)-Wielding Serial Killers
Think Jason Vorhees, Michael Myers, and Leatherface. These creatures are notoriously slow, so if you ever confront one, just run as fast you can in the opposite direction and you should be okay (but for the love of all that is holy, do not drop in the woods and cry, as he'll be on your ass quicker than you can say, "Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!"). But the only thing that can truly stop these beasts is disappointing box office receipts.

Chupacabras
Chupacabras aren't real, silly!

Genetically Altered Beasts
If you encounter an extremely large creature like Godzilla, call the Army. If you're lucky, you'll face a mutant of a more manageable size, like a C.H.U.D. But be careful! Just because something's toxic, doesn't mean it's bad. You don't want to accidentally kill The Toxic Avenger.

Ghosts
Ghosts cannot harm you; they are merely nuisances. Most of the time, a ghost is just pissed over something you did (moved into his house, disgraced his burial ground, killed him when he was a human, etc.). If you can deal with a bunch of clattering pots and pans, items moved without your knowledge, etc., you're in the clear. I don't really think you can kill a ghost. It's either deal with it or move out.

Killer Tomatoes
These beings are very rare. But if you find yourself cornered by a bunch of them, don't fret. Just use those Doc Martens to make Killer Ketchup!

Mummies
Mummies are the wusses of the Monster World. They're covered in bandages, move slower than zombies, and are forced to walk with their arms stretched out in front of them. And they make weird noises like, "Mmmmhhhhmmmm." If a mummy shows up at your house, just laugh at him and go back to whatever you were doing.

Vampires
Vampires sleep all day and appear only at night. They are the rock stars of the Monster World; there's a reason the vamps in The Lost Boys looked more like Jon Bon Jovi than Count Chocula. To prepare for possible vampire activity, have a wooden stake, a cross, and a steel turtleneck at your disposal. And to be on the safe side, kill any and all bats you see.

Werewolves
These critters only appear during full moons, so check your lunar calendar. They can be stopped with silver bullets, which can be found at Army Navy Surplus Stores and Wal-Mart. If you are able to take down a werewolf, make sure you stay for the aftershow: werewolves usually revert to their human form. And they're usually naked!

Zombies
Zombies are only after brains, so if you're stupid, you're safe. Otherwise, a direct blow to the head with a sharp object or bullet will kill these slow-moving fiends.

One Last Word Of Warning
You may find yourself surrounded by hordes of waist-high creatures. These creatures are usually fast, as ravenous as zombies, and take on many forms and shapes. But these creatures are trick-or-treaters.

Do not kill them.

Song of the day: People Who Died by The Jim Carroll Band

Boo This: The Game That Hath No Name

Last year around this time, our doorbell rang while we were eating dinner. I looked outside and found a Halloween bag on our front porch. And just like Weirdgirl's husband, I was skeptical.

I brought it inside and showed it to Ella. "What's that?" she asked. "It's a bag of candy," I answered. "Huh? It's not even Halloween yet," she replied.

We had been booed. The bag contained candy and instructions to do the same to two of our neighbors. Since I am a cynical bastard with a deep hatred of chain letters, the booing stopped at our house. What was going to happen anyway? Razorblades in my kids' apples?

But don't think I'm against all Halloween games. In fact, there is a game we played when I was a teenager that I may have to start in my neighborhood this year.

Rules For The Game That Hath No Name

The game is quite simple to play:

1. Agree on an object (garden gnome, plastic jack-o'-lantern, hot pink vibrator, etc.).
2. Randomly pick someone to be the initial keeper of the object.
3. The first person goes to another person's house, puts the object on the doorstep, rings the doorbell, and then runs like hell.
4. The new person has to put it on someone else's front porch.
5. When placing the object on the doorstep, if you are caught before leaving the property, you must leave with the object and place it on someone else's doorstep.
6. Objects can only be left on the doorstep between 7:00 PM and 11:00 PM.
7. Whoever (Whomever? Didn't I learn anything from The Office last week?) is left holding the object at 11:00 PM on Halloween night buys all participants a twelve-pack of beer (or a bottle of wine if you're one of those people).
   

In high school, the father of one of my friends played this game. When he got stuck with the object (a witch), he would have us deliver it to someone else's house.

And we had waaaaay too much fun doing it. We would scope out our victims and carefully plan our attack. But we weren't the only ones putting way too much effort into the game. There was one man who would sit in a rocking chair on his porch all night long just so he wouldn't get stuck with the witch.

During our senior year, we started getting cocky. We would actually phone our victims and warn them with a menacing, "The witch is on the way!" Yeah, we could've been out chasing girls but instead we were delivering witches to the front porches of forty-year-old men.

My priorities have always been pretty screwed up.

Tomorrow, I think I'll meet with the guys in the neighborhood and see if anyone wants to play the game. But first I'll need to think of a catchier name than The Game That Hath No Name. Any suggestions? Because opening the front door in the morning and yelling, "Honey! We've been The Game That Hath No Named" to your significant other is just too damn wordy.

But "Honey! We've been Pink Dildoed!" does has a nice ring to it, don't you think?

Song of the day: I Put A Spell On You by Screamin' Jay Hawkins

It's The Return Of The Great Halloween Recap, Charlie Brown

This is the last Halloween post until next October. I promise.

Remember all that stuff I've been writing lately about how much I love Halloween, how it's the greatest holiday ever, and all that crap? I take it all back. Because on Tuesday night, I was seriously hating Halloween.

We took the kids trick-or-treating Tuesday night in our neighborhood. Or at least we tried. Zoey was excited, hoping to score as many Sweet Tarts, lollipops, and other hardcore sugary items (for some reason, she always passes up the chocolate (Note to self: get a DNA test done on her)) as she could carry. Zed, on the other hand, was more interested in every rock, stick, and leaf we passed along the way. Candy? Who needs it when you've got crunchy leaves to crinkle in your fingers?

Two entirely different agendas. So you can imagine how our Halloween went down.

Zed would stand in the middle of someone's yard, picking at their leaves. Zoey would drag one of us by the arm to the front door while complaining that we're not moving fast enough. The other one would pick up Zed. Much kicking, crying, and screaming would ensue. We would try to make small talk with our neighbor, ignoring Zed's screaming and Zoey's whining about wanting to go to the next house. Rinse, lather, repeat. Fun stuff!

So after braving three or four houses, I took Zed home. I stood on the porch and greeted the approximately 46,000 trick-or-treaters that came to our front door. That might sound like an exaggeration, but I firmly believe that's how many people showed up at our front door that evening.

See, we live in a large subdivision. Over 1,500 homes. We have our own elementary school, even. So in addition to having A LOT of children that live in the surrounding area, a lot of kids from other areas come to our neighborhood to trick-or-treat because they can cover a large number of homes in a short period of time.

I don't mind this. What I do mind, however, is when a kid comes up to the porch wearing the same clothes they wore to school that day and carrying a Wal-Mart plastic bag. At least put a little effort into it, you know? I refuse to give candy to these kids. Of course, most of these kids were too old to be trick-or-treating anyway. If you are old enough to drive a car, you shouldn't be trick-or-treating. Go tp someone's house or go pumpkin chunkin' instead.

Even though we bought a shopping cart full of candy, we ran out well before the crowds thinned. We turned off all the lights (which, sadly, didn't stop some kids from ringing our doorbell), put the kids to bed, and watched horror movies for the rest of the evening.

Captain Sam And The Forest Creatures

On Saturday, we had a Big Family Outing Day planned. We were going to go to a pumpkin patch in the morning and then downtown to the Arts District that evening for their Halloween festivities.

But as he is wont to do whenever we try to plan anything, Zed woke up that morning with a fever and a cold. So we decided Ella, since she's the arty one, would take Zoey downtown that evening and I would take her to a pumpkin patch that morning.

I flipped through the paper and found a listing for Captain Sam's Pumpkin Land. It promised hayrides, a Mystical Forest, games for children, a scarecrow exhibit, pumpkin carving, food, and fun. Sold!

After printing directions, Zoey and I headed out for our thirty-minute drive through the country. With each passing mile, the scenery became more rural. Since 99.9% of all Halloween Festivals are held at an elementary school, a church, or a fire station, I began to wonder what kind of elementary school, church, or fire station was out there in the middle of nowhere.

My heart sank as we turned down the road where the event was held: it was a dead end road. "This is how horror movies start out," I thought to myself.

We saw the giant inflatable pumpkin at the end of the road. It was someone's farm. There was a giant field that the farmer had roped off into lanes for cars to park. But guess what? There were no cars in the field.

"Christ," I thought. "He's going to hack us up into little bits and turn us into barbeque."

But despite my better judgment, we pulled into Captain Sam's field. We walked down the path and were greeted by three overly-eager elderly men. We went to the games section. They had the classic games: ring toss, throwing darts at balloons, and knocking down bottles with a softball. Of course, Zoey didn't want to play any of the games. Maybe if there had been some other kids around (hell, maybe if there had been one other kid around), she would've played a game or two, but I guess she was feeling self-conscious.

Or afraid. Like her Daddy.

We checked out the scarecrows and the jack-o-lanterns. I could tell Zoey was a little bored, so I inquired about the hayride.

"I like to have a few more kids on the trailer before I fire up the tractor," Captain Sam said. "Can you wait until some more kids show up?"

"Sure," I replied. Mid-November, maybe?

He began making small talk. He gave Zoey a pinwheel. When he found out that we had driven thirty minutes to come to his Pumpkin Land, he said, "Wow! Well since you drove all this way, I'll give you a ride right now!"

So we climbed into the trailer and drove through the farm. Captain Sam pointed out squirrels, fallen trees, and creeks to Zoey. He mentioned that most of the time he sees plenty of wildlife on these rides. Apparently, deer, foxes, and skunks are quite common on his property. But we didn't see any wildlife besides the squirrels. And Captain Sam.

Suddenly, Captain Sam stopped the tractor. "Zoey, we're getting ready to enter the Mystical Forest. Are you ready?" Zoey turned to me with a WTF? expression on her face. "Answer the man," I whispered.

"Sure," she said, sheepishly, unsure if she was really ready to enter the Mystical Forest.

Captain Sam pointed out the Magical Tree People in the Mystical Forest. Basically, they were just regular trees with those cheesy faces stuck on them. Then we got to see the Forest Creatures. Or as I like to call them, the Send My Daughter To Therapy At The Tender Age Of Four Creatures.

Imagine if you laid out an outfit on your bed and stuffed the shirt and pants with padding or pillows. That's what a Forest Creature's body looked like. Some were standing, some were sitting, some were lying on the ground. One was using a walker. Yes. I said walker.

But each Forest Creature had a different head. One had the head of a Barbie doll. One had a Tickle-Me-Elmo head. One had a Big Bird head. One had a Dora head. It was all quite unnerving. I guess at some point, Captain Sam ran out of doll parts because a few of the Forest Creatures simply had trash bags for heads with smiley faces drawn on them.

As we drove closer to the Forest Creature with the Dora head, I shouted out to Zoey, "Look! It's Dora!" Zoey became excited. Then I noticed Dora the Forest Creature's hands.

She. Had. Knives. In. Her. Hands.

KNIVES! IN HER HANDS!

I started looking around at all the other Forest Creatures. Some had knives while others had sticks. But all of them were armed. I guess that was in case the Magical Tree People ever got out of line.

It was then that I knew this hayride definitely ended at the slaughterhouse.

But Captain Sam drove us back to our car. We thanked him and sped away.

But in hindsight, I realize it wasn't that bad. Captain Sam had invented a place that he thought would be fun for kids. He had games, jack-o-lanterns, scarecrows, and a scary Mystical Forest. Something just got lost in the execution.

In fact, I realize that Captain Sam was a lot like me. Except with a bigger budget. And advertising.

The Scariest (Or Mushiest, Depending Upon Your Perspective) Halloween Story Ever Told

My apologies if you read the condensed version of this last year.

As I wrote last week, I absolutely love Halloween. In addition to the aforementioned reasons, Halloween holds a special place in my heart due to two momentous occasions.

Eight years ago, Ella and I moved into our very first home on Halloween. We had been living together for four-and-a-half years, moving from apartment to apartment to rental home. Finally, we had scraped together enough money to buy a nice little starter home in a new subdivision.

We moved boxes and furniture into the house all day long. That evening, we sat by the door, waiting for all the cute little Trick-or-Treaters. But since we were only the third house built in that subdivision, we only had two visitors all evening. But we still had fun. IN OUR VERY OWN HOME.

Life was good. Really good.

But we weren't married yet. So the next year, I decided to propose (yes, for those of you doing the math, we had been dating five-and-a-half years at this point). But I didn't want to just take her out to dinner and put a ring in a fortune cookie or something like that. So I decided to propose to her on Halloween.

I had it all worked out in my head: I would take a trick-or-treat bucket, fill it with candy, and hide the ring inside. Pure genius! And semi-romantic, right? I would have our next-door neighbor's two-year-old daughter deliver it to us under the guise that she got "too much candy." Like there is such a thing to a kid.

The only problem? I forgot to tell my neighbor about the plan. I went over there about 7:00 PM on Halloween evening and told him what I wanted them to do. But his daughter had already had her bath and was getting ready for bed. I begged and pleaded with him, and he finally agreed to put her costume back on and come over to our house (I did buy him a six-pack the next day).

I hurried home. Five minutes later the doorbell rang. My neighbor said, "Susie got a lot of candy tonight. We figured you guys might like some." After Ella made a fuss over Susie's Tigger costume, they left and we sat down. Ella said, "Let's see what we got!" She started rummaging through the bucket and found the ring box. She pulled it out and smiled. I opened the box, got down on one knee, and... well, I guess you can figure out what happened next.

Poor Ella. She should've just eaten the candy.

Happy Halloween, everyone!

Youthful Idiocy: The Haunted Forest

Part 4 of a 14,389,003-part series that serves as a reminder that every time one of my kids does something dumb, I've done something dumber.

When I was young, we had a great set of woods in our neighborhood. A maze of trails. Abandoned treehouses and clubhouses built by children before us. A creek. Several bridges. Tire swings. A separate section of dirt trails perfect for bicycle jumping. A crazy man who lived in a shack, armed with a shotgun, a hatred of children, and lots of Styrofoam cups.

And the whole thing backed up to a prison camp. Suburbia rocks!

One year, the four of us decided to turn our beloved woods into a Haunted Forest for Halloween. Since there were only four of us, it was a rather daunting task. We worked every day after school and all day on the weekends for a solid month.

Here was the basic setup:

One of us was the trail guide while the other three of us would scare you through the subtle art of rubber masks and yelling. The trail guide led you by flashlight through the woods to our three major scary places. At Point A, you would touch eyeballs (peeled grapes; we were savvy veterans of the whole elementary school haunted house scene) and the three of us would jump out and scare you. At Point B, you would hear scary noises (the four of us moaning) played over a cassette player and the three of us would jump out and scare you. At Point C, the guide would pull a rope that would cause leaves to fall on your head (ooh! scary!) and the three of us would jump out and scare you. We even had secret trails that would allow the three of us to move quickly from Point A to Point B to Point C. We were quite clever.

Yeah, I know. It was actually very lame. But we were kids. And we were only charging two bucks.

On Halloween Eve, we practiced for several hours. Come Halloween night, we were ready. Except for one little thing.

You know that whole "if you build it, he will come" line of thought?

Total bullshit.

No one showed up. Not even our parents.

The one thing we forgot? Advertising.

We had not told anyone we were doing this.

We had not erected any signs to let people know our Haunted Forest existed.

We were idiots.

We sat in the woods all Halloween evening, freezing our asses off like sad little Linuses awaiting The Great Pumpkin.

Only Lucy never came to put us to bed.

Related:
Youthful Idiocy: Fish In A Barrel
Youthful Idiocy: The Fifth Grade Flea Market In A Bag
Youthful Idiocy: The Great Playboy Heist

Want To Hear Something Really Scary?

Ok. So maybe the following songs aren't actually scary, but they all have a spooky feel about them, either lyrically or musically. Enjoy!

Screamin' Jay Hawkins I Put A Spell On You
A classic. The first song everybody thinks of when the subject turns to scary music.

Gerard McMann Cry Little Sister
This is the theme song from The Lost Boys. This song is scary. Killer organ.

The Doors People Are Strange
Not really a scary song, but it always creeped me out for some reason. Echo & The Bunnymen covered this song for the aforementioned The Lost Boys soundtrack.

John Carpenter Halloween Theme
Haunting. That piano riff gets stuck in your head. Very suspenseful.

Nine Inch Nails Something I Can Never Have
Much in the vein of the Halloween Theme, this song employs an eerie piano riff. My favorite NIN song ever.

The Misfits Halloween
Glenn Danzig is the scariest singer ever. Or so he thinks.

Concrete Blonde Bloodletting
Vampires!

Faith No More Surprise! You're Dead!
Scarier vampires!

Violent Femmes Country Death Song
I try to put at least one Femmes song on every mix I make. And this song is about a guy killing his daughter, so it fits.

Citizens Of Halloween Town This Is Halloween
Ella and I love The Nightmare Before Christmas (I'll prove it to you in a few weeks (with pictures!)). It pains me to see all the little pseudo-Goth kids carrying their Jack Skellington purses.

Ramones Chain Saw
Worth hearing just to hear Joey Ramone massacre the word massacre.

AC/DC Hells Bells
What's scarier than the Devil?

Rolling Stones Sympathy For The Devil
Ibid.

Leonard Cohen Everybody Knows
I know this song isn't technically scary, but it just has a spooky vibe about it. Dude could make Mary Had A Little Lamb sound scary.

And finally, the scariest song ever recorded:

Ace Of Base The Sign
I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes
I saw the sign
No one's gonna drag you up to get into the light where you belong
But where do you belong?
You guys know this song is about Satan, right? The Sign of the Beast? Or is it just me?

Songs intentionally omitted from this list because they suck:
Don't Fear The Reaper
Ghostbusters
Monster Mash
Somebody's Watching Me
Thriller
Werewolves Of London
Most death/speed metal

So what are some of your favorite scary songs?

More Holiday Music:
Mother's Day (Mothers immortalized in song)
The Cynical Dad Xmas 2005 Mix Tape

It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

Some people get excited when Christmas rolls around. Others long for Thanksgiving family get-togethers. Me? I live for Halloween.

Halloween gets a bad rap. Churches, schools, and even entire communities try to castrate Halloween with their stupid "Fall Festivals" and whatnot. Halloween is not evil. It's about having fun. It's the one day of the entire year where it's socially acceptable to be whatever you want to be.

Here are some of the many things I love about the Halloween season:

• The weather
• Bonfires
• Pumpkin patches
• Decorations
  
• Horror movies
• Hayrides
• Costumes
• Fall festivals
• Playing tricks on people
• Watching my kids go door-to-door begging for candy
• Eating most of their candy when they're not looking
  

I'll be writing about Halloween and Halloween-related activities over the next few days. So if you're not into that kind of stuff, come back in November.

What are some of your favorite things about the Halloween season?

Maybe Christmas Will Come Early This Year

The kids and I have been sick the past few days, so we've spent quite a bit of lazy time either watching TV or reading. Today, Zoey was flipping through the Party City catalog, trying to decide what she wanted to be for Halloween.

Ella made Zoey's first two costumes. She made Zed's first costume. We're done with that game; it's only store-bought, mass-produced costumes from here on out. Conformity rocks!

After much consideration and flip-flopping, Zoey finally decided on this:


A Barbie Fairytopia Mermaidia costume. Of course, by the time we get everyone well enough to actually go costume shopping, she will have changed her mind three hundred times.

And then she asked me, "Do Mommies and Daddies wear costumes?" "Yes, some do," I replied. "Do you want Mommy and Daddy to wear costumes?"

"YES!" she exclaimed as she began studying the adult women's costumes. She picked this one:


"I like this one."

"So does Daddy."

"I like pink."

"Me too."

"I think Mommy should be this for Halloween."

"Me too."

And Zoey? If you're reading this and talk Mommy into purchasing that outfit, I'll buy you a pony. And everything in the toy store.

It's The Great Halloween Recap, Charlie Brown

This year, Halloween was a little less hectic for us. Normally, we have four Halloween-related activities to attend, but this year we only had two. So why do I feel so exhausted?

There's a guy on a nearby street that used to show movies in his garage two weeks before Halloween. He would show a kid's movie followed by a horror movie (Halloween, etc.) for the adults. Everyone brought the kids, lawn chairs, and their favorite alcoholic beverages. Unfortunately, he moved away this spring.

A friend of ours usually has a pumpkin-carving party. The kids play together and try to stuff as much chocolate as they can into their tiny bodies before they pass out, throw up, or time's up. The adults carve pumpkins. And drink. But she didn't have her party this year. Her three-year-old has been having difficulties adjusting to life with a little sister. Or perhaps we just weren't invited because I caused such a scene last year.

We did go to the Pumpkin Pie Contest on Saturday night. Basically, about thirty families in the neighborhood get together, block off the street, and the kids have a Halloween Parade. Everyone brings an appetizer, a dessert, and their best pumpkin pie. And, oh yeah, alcoholic beverages. Because nothing proves you're a caring parent like a cooler full of Capri Sun and Miller High Life.

Actually, it seems like we have a lot of holiday celebrations in this neighborhood that revolve around drinking. We drink at our Christmas party. We drink at our New Year's Eve party. And let's not even discuss St. Patrick's Day. Arbor Day? Let's drink and take a leak on a tree! Groundhog Day? If the groundhog sees his shadow, that's six more weeks of drinking! Hell, it's amazing someone hasn't thrown a Festivus party in the past just to get everyone together to drink.

Ok, I'm done babbling. How did our Halloween turn out? Glad you asked.

We had about four hundred pieces of candy: three bags of good candy (Reese's, M&M's, etc.) and one bag of crap (Pixy Stix, Laffy Taffy, Sweet Tarts, etc.), which I could not understand why Ella bought. I made fun of her all evening for this: "Did you see the little boy when I gave him some Sweet Tarts? I saw a tear well up in his eye." It's a wonder she didn't stab me to death with the Pixy Stix.

The trick-or-treaters started showing up soon after 6:00 PM. We gave out candy while we finished dinner and got the kids dressed in their costumes. Zoey, as I previously mentioned, was a cheerleader. We had some problems with Zed's costume. It seems if you're a boy under two years of age, you can only be an insect, a vegetable, or a devil for Halloween. We didn't really care for any of the costumes we saw, so Ella made him a skeleton costume, which turned out amazing. If I wasn't so paranoid, I'd post a picture of him in his costume, but there are way too many weirdoes out there.

At 6:45 PM, we left the house to go trick-or-treating. I had to beat the kids back with a broom. "Sorry! We'll be back soon! We're going trick-or-treating! Don't egg our house, please!" Last year, Zoey was very timid and hid behind us most of the time. This year was a different story. She knew that all she had to do was march up to a house, say the three magic words, and soon a chocolate delight would be hers. We took her to about ten houses and only to houses where we knew the people. I haven't saved up enough money for my own personal x-ray machine.

We went back home and I gave out more candy while Ella fed Zed. After he was finished, we ventured out into the night. This time, instead of beating the trick-or-treaters back with a broom, I grabbed a handful of candy, threw it out into the yard, and yelled, "Have at it, scavengers!" while we quickly made our escape. We walked down to the cul-de-sac to meet some of our neighbors. The kids all played together while taking stock of one another's loot. The adults chatted and handed out candy to the trick-or-treaters.

And drank. Hot chocolate with Baileys.

GHS: 0

My Daughter Wants Her Daddy Dead

Halloween has always been very special for me. Ella and I moved into our first home on Halloween. We spent the evening eagerly awaiting trick-or-treaters, but since ours was only the third house built at that point in our subdivision, we only had two spirits visit all evening. A year later, I proposed to her on Halloween. And since I brought it up, here are the gory details:

I bought a trick-or-treat bucket, filled it with candy, and buried the ring box deep inside. I then went over to my neighbor's house and asked if he would bring his two-year-old daughter over with the bucket of candy and give it to Ella and I under the guise of "She got too much candy today. You guys have some." He did and when they left, Ella immediately went through the bucket, inventorying the booty, until she found the ring. The rest is history.

Foolish girl. She should've opted for the candy instead.

This will be Zoey's fourth Halloween. For the first two, Ella and I took turns selecting Zoey's costume. For Zoey's first Halloween, Ella chose a ladybug costume, as Ella has always had a thing for ladybugs (no, I don't even begin to comprehend the attraction). For Zoey's second Halloween, I chose a cow costume. There was no longstanding emotional baggage concerning cows; it was simply a cute costume.

Last year, Zoey was twenty-six months old, so she was able to pick out her own costume. And what did Daddy's little girl chose? A princess? Nope. A ballerina? Not even close.

A gorilla.

I wasn't surprised. Since day one, my daughter's always had a punk rock mentality. She's going to do things her way, when she wants to do them. She's not going to do something just because all her little friends are doing it. So at her preschool's Halloween Parade, amidst all the little Minnie Mice, fairies, Disney princesses, Doras, ballerinas, and kitty cats, stood one lone gorilla with a pink bow in her hair (Ella's feeble attempt to feminize the costume and to keep people from thinking she was a boy). I love Zoey!

But over the past year, Zoey has become more and more enamored with sugar, spice, everything nice, bows, ribbons, and all that girlie stuff. She's still got her tough tomboy exterior, but her softer side shines through more and more. Which is why I like to call her my Punk Rock Princess. She loves the name as well.

Yeah, I'm a big dork, especially when it comes to the kids. But you knew that already, didn't you?

Last week, Zoey told us she wanted to be Stephanie from LazyTown. For some insanely naive reason, Ella and I both thought Ella would have to make this costume for Zoey. Let's see, it's a show that's on daily on Nickelodeon and Noggin (and CBS on Saturdays) and it's been out for over a year. Yeah, there's no way Viacom would try to capitalize on their product. I looked on Ebay the next day to see if anyone was making their own Stephanie costumes and that's when I found official costumes were for sale all over the place.

Sometimes I really need to crawl out from under this rock and take a look around.

But the next day, Zoey decided she wanted to be a princess instead. Despite the fact that she has six or seven princess gowns, various tiaras, and several pairs of formal shoes, we were prepared to shell out the bucks for a brand new outfit. Hey, it's Halloween!

That is until yesterday morning, when she decided she wanted to be Stephanie again. I told Ella, "You're taking that child to the store tonight and letting her pick out her costume."

So when they came home from the costume store, I asked Ella, "Did she pick the Stephanie costume?"

"Nope," she replied.

"So what kind of princess did she chose?"

"She's not a princess, either."

"So what is it?"

"It's a surprise. Hang on and I'll put it on her. You're not going to like it."

"I'm sure I'll love whatever my lovely daughter chose to be on Halloween."

"Whatever. You're going to be eating those words in a few minutes."

After ten minutes (and a lot of giggling from the kitchen), my daughter walked into the room.

Dressed. As. A. Cheerleader.

Ella was right!

It would've been nice if Ella had warned me. Maybe then poor Zoey wouldn't have been met with a look of sheer terror from her Dad as she proudly pranced around in her cheerleading outfit. Were they trying to kill me? What happened? Weren't there any Catholic schoolgirl uniforms available? Did they miss the French maid section?

I know. I'm overreacting. I know she's only three and everyone will just think she's cute (although I know all the neighborhood fathers will be giving me major crap when they see her). But I also know firsthand what kind of response cheerleader outfits elicit in the loins of a young male. In the immortal words of beloved poet laureate Bret Michaels, "Where's the girl I knew a year ago?"

All kidding aside, I have no problem with her becoming a cheerleader when she's a teenager. Just as long as she's attending this little Amish prep school I have picked out for her in south central Pennsylvania.

GHS: 4 (10 every time she wears a cheerleading uniform when she's 13+ (if I still have any non-gray hair (or any hair period (or if I'm still alive))))