Friday Afternoon Club: When Halloween Costumes Go BadOctober 30th, 2009 by Chris Henry
Many of you know that I live in McCormick Woods, but you may not know the reason we moved here is for Halloween. The streets are wide,the houses close together and the neighbors (usually) generous, making it a great place to trick-or-treat. And I’m not telling you what hundreds of families in South Kitsap don’t already know.
We came to McCormick Woods many a Halloween before moving here in 2002. But I was especially excited to make great costumes for the kids our first year in the neighborhood. (Cue ominous music here.)
Now, I’m no good with a sewing machine, but I do have an active imagination. The martian costume I made out of a cardboard box, worn on the head, had holes for the eyes and pipe cleaners for antenae. Who needs Walmart? I’ve got the recycle bin.
Then there was the eyeball costume I made out of a plastic garbage bag filled with crumpled newspaper. I drew veins and lashes on the plastic with a felt-tip pen. The costume, inflicted on … uh, worn by my youngest, was effective, but he rustled loudly as he walked.
The year we moved into McCormick Woods, I decided said youngest son should be a mummy. My material of choice … toilet paper.
My son is 14 now and trying to make a good impression on his junior high friends. He gave me permission to relate this story if I made it clear he was an innocent bystander in the whole affair and had nothing to do with it other than a mad desire for candy.
So I wrapped him in the toilet paper head to toe. It took three rolls. For added effect, I drizzled him with red food coloring. Ta-da! I put Martha Stewart to shame.
Off went said youngest son among the prim hedgerows and manicured lawns of McWoods looking for all the world, I realized in horror, like a … well, lets just say it was far from tasteful.
Too late, and anyway, at 7 he was oblivious to anything but rushing to ring the next doorbell. Then it began to rain. My son continued his quest, leaving wads of gory toilet paper in his wake.
The moral of this story is: next year, use two-ply.
Oh, wait, he’s too old to trick-or-treat. I need more victims … uh, grandchildren.
Happy Halloween. Stop by and visit me if you dare!
Chris Henry, South Kitsap reporter and costume maker extraordinaire