Count Trackula

I decided to take the kids on an impromptu trip to Atlanta today to participate in my parents’ Halloween tradition of scaring the living MESS out of the neighborhood children. In his prop arsenal this year, my dad (he calls himself “G-man”) has a life-sized coffin and my old, bald mannequin, Demi. I got her in high school when the film G.I. Jane was popular (hence the name). Demi really comes in handy on Halloween.

She also comes in handy whenever I walk into my parents’ storage house any other day of the year and have a mini heart attack. Dang you, Demi! You get me every time. And put some clothes on for Pete’s sake!

My mom (she makes us call her “Precious”) is both the candy distributor and dad’s costume designer. She takes both jobs very seriously.

Actually, mom is a fantastic seamstress. Here is the costume she made for JJ’s first Halloween (2010) when he was the Cowardly Lion:

The detail was amazing.

Seriously, she’s a pro.

And mom would probably like for me to inform you that she was NOT responsible for my “Yellow Brick Road” costume. Nor was she responsible for Brian’s “Angry Tree” costume.

Y’all, he threw foam apples at people.

It was epic.

Anyhow, my mom is the nice lady who lures the children right in the path of my dad (who disguises himself) so he can scare the living mess out of them.

Here’s a photo of last year’s mummy getup.

It’s not a great photo, but you can see the time that went into this thing – not to mention the amazing coffin that was gifted by a fellow church member. That, my friends, is what church family is all about. Sharing coffins to scare children.

Sharing is scaring.

My parents even recruited my high school friend and her husband who live down the street from them. I’m pretty sure they’re in charge of all the liability release forms. Here’s an excerpt:

“We will not be held responsible for your child’s nightmares or any injuries that result when we scare the crap out of you and you stumble off the curb into oncoming traffic. Also, we will not pay to have your undergarments cleaned.”

Last year my parents had 1,200 trick-or-treaters. Twelve. HUNDRED.

My mom knows this because she systematically counts the candy bars as she drops them into each child’s bag. OCD much? Not really, but we do call her the Count – as in Count Von Count from Sesame Street.

Eleven hundred and fifty-seven trick-or-treaters! Ah, ah, ah!

We’ll call her Count Trackula.

Anyhow, 1,200 trick-or-treaters is not an entirely accurate estimate since there are those who are actually denied the privilege of candy if they fail to show Count Trackula an appropriate level of Halloweeny enthusiasm and etiquette.

Mom expects a great deal from her trick-or-treaters. And I suppose it has something to do with the sheer volume of them. After the 300th Disney princess she probably starts thinking, “Boring. Seen it. What else you got, kids? Is it really too much to ask for a little CREATIVITY?”

Seriously, my mom is like the Simon Cowell of Halloween.

Those who are actually denied candy usually fall into these three categories:

1. Teenagers not in costume. Those who lack creativity or are “too cool” for a costume need not approach the house of Precious and G-man. But if they do, mom will just heckle them for a few minutes and then send them on their way empty handed – but not before G-man scares the crap out of them.
2. Repeat offenders. Precious doesn’t forget a face – even a face in a cheap, plastic mask. Sure, she may have passed out 953 fun size Nestle Crunch bars so far, but Count Trackula can spot a repeat offender from a mile away.
3. Mothers of infants. (You weren’t expecting this one, were you?) Folks, I guarantee you that my own mother would deny me candy if I came to trick-or-treat at her house. Mothers of infants, the jig is up. Precious sees right through our plan to take little Tinker Bell all over town to load up on some free candy for ourselves.

So, the costumes are made. My kids are going as “kids living in a temporary apartment who have a slug for a mother who is so last minute that she didn’t pull together costume.” They were on sale.

The video camera is packed.

I’m. So. Excited.

I’m hitting up Starbucks here in Alabama and then headed to Atlanta bright and early this morning. So…around 10ish. Maybe noon.

Check back with me tomorrow. I hope to have photos (and maybe video) to share!

I’m curious, would you and/or your kids get denied by Count Trackula?