I’ve always been a big chicken. Nothing’s changed. I don’t watch horror movies, I don’t search for the biggest, highest, longest roller coaster and you will never get me up in a hot air balloon.
I do, though, love Halloween, in a scaredy-cat kind of way. I didn’t realize what a lightweight I was until the trend began for truly grisly, realistic Halloween décor. I am really hoping all the body parts on lawns throughout my neighborhood will make the little ones seek a career in medical care. The only other option would be that they will all become mass murderers who are ho-hum about dismembering their victims.
Things like the haunted houses and zombie events have always and still do give me hives. But it seems they get ever more terrifying.
I realize that grown-ups don’t really think the actor dressed as a zombie is going to eat their brains, but I am not a fan of sudden surprises. I’m convinced I am the last non-adrenalin junkie left on Earth.
And as nature will have it, my children laugh at my queasiness and revel in the goriest possible Halloweens. My son, as many of you know, did go into medicine, so that is the basis of my theory. My daughter went right off the deep end.
Halloween is her absolute favorite holiday and her costumes have always involved stick-on wounds, dripping blood and mayhem.
She loves nothing better than to throw a Halloween party and I usually get roped into helping her prepare. For a couple of years, I made the huge mistake of buying her adorable decor and serving dishes featuring cute vampires and funny witches. These were summarily rejected. There would be no cuteness at her party, thank you.
For her last party, she made cupcakes topped with sugar glass shards, which bled. She made cupcakes with small hatchets in them, which also bled. She had lifelike Jell-O eyeballs and a dreadful flying skull that hangs in a place of honor. The food was served in beakers and test tubes and bowls with gnarly hands coming out of them. There was smoke coming from the punch bowl and she drapes cobwebs over everything. You get the idea.
I am heartened that my cute decorations in the school library were well received, and am hoping my young friends who come by my house to trick-or-treat will be content with traditional jack-o-lanterns and such.
Gee. The year I dressed up like a witch, I even scared a few little ones off. I’m sticking with cute.
Jean Gillette is a freelance writer who did love “True Blood,” but that’s as crazy as she gets. Contact her at email@example.com