To The Hallowieners

Published November 1, 2015 by sarcasmica

Last Halloween was great. We managed to get out, get loads of candy, and get back without much drizzle or rain. Our poor neighbors had a temporarily lost kid scenario which I do not envy (no matter how many whining complaining blog entries i’ve done) but they came away from their nearly identical outing with a crazy story about “The Chainsaw House”.

Now we had gone to a home that had a coffin out front, and a guy popped out of it. My daughter was 4 at the time and wasn’t a fan. They chuckled and offered her extra ‘get over it’ candy.

I had assumed this was the house where the chainsaw incident must’ve happened because frankly, no one else was scaring around here.

All year the kids would bring up “The Chainsaw Guy” or “The Chainsaw House” so we were prepared for the possibility. First street down, umbrellas out, half soaked shoes in the constant drizzle/light rain, we ventured over to “That Street”. My daughter was glued to me most of the walk, and my son was mysteriously lingering behind a bit. Apparently their police officer and SWAT costumes were not providing any additional chutzpah.

We see the house. No obvious sounds to me, though. They had giant over-sized head stones in their yard and a fog machine. Cooooool. My daughter was not going for it, though. I walked up with my son. Nothing at all was jumping, popping, or leaping out at us. All was safe. My daughter creeped up with her dad urging her on. We made it aaaall the way up to the porch. I saw the coffin, but they had something on top of it. Seemingly impossible to have anything come out. There was a big stuffed pumpkin head scarecrow type dude in a chair beside the door. My daughter was doing her hysterical “Ooohhh, hahahahaha!” laugh to cover her fear. My son, now with his chest puffed out at his bravery, steps up to the porch, reaches for the doorbell when out from the dark side of the house a roaring chainsaw comes at us. The flannel-clad asswipe wielding it is laughing as my 5 year old scrEEEEams, turns, manages not to fall down the step, and runs. My 9 year old was just a blur in my peripheral, honestly. I was concentrating on my daughter not leaving a pile of poo on their porch…. which, in hindsight, I kinda wish she had.

There was a woman dressed as old lady holding the candy bowl at the front door and she was quite amused with the whole scene. I guess my daughter standing on the porch angrily wailing and crying was precious. They eventually talked my kids down from the ledge, lured them back to the front door with chuckles and “It’s just Halloween, sweetie.” explanations. We get ready to choose our very well-deserved candy when the pumpkin headed scarecrow stands up in front of me.

I squealed. My daughter jumped. And we kind of laughed. My little cop was M-A-D. Pumpkin head took the head off, stuck his hand out and tried to coach my kids with “It’s all just for fun, honey. It’s Halloween!” and left that pathetic limp excuse for Halloween fun flop on their own front porch.

My recollection of what happened at that house is pitifully fuzzy based on my own shock, my kids’ terror, and fury. I wish I could say that my reaction to both parties out for preschool blood was to punch them all in the throat. Sadly, I was only slightly less terrified than my children. Kids do that for you. Force you to fake less fear just to prove these things don’t kill you like their little brains try so hard to convince them they will.

These chuckle heads actually had more in store at their house which we did not partake in. They had a haunted house maze type thing set up in their garage. I can only imagine the festive family fun scenes they had in store. Does Pinhead come at you with a blow torch? Does Freddy only get you with butter knives instead of razors?

Like seriously. I am probably one of the bigger fans of Halloween around here. We are by far the most obnoxious with the yard decorations. However, let’s not get the trick or treating antics twisted. Families are what live around here, mostly with elementary aged kids. I’m all for going out on a limb in the name of the holiday, but for godssakes, keep it age appropriate! Hold off on the chainsaw wielding serial killers until 8:30, okay? How about we not create PTSD patients in the name of a fun size candy bar? Every single house – and there weren’t many – after that scene my daughter had to be coaxed and prodded to walk past a wet cotton spider web for fear some terrible thing would jump out and try to kill her.

She’s 5!

One house had nothing more than spider webs and a fuzzy spider, and she was nearly brought back to tears.

The neighbors of these quacks did not seem any more impressed with what was happening than we were. There were a lot of understanding head nods and pursed-lip head shakes.

My husband had a great plan for next year. He’s going to dress up like a thug complete with brass knuckles. When the yahoo that will inevitably jump out does, he’s going to cold-cock them. “Hey, it’s all in the name of fun, guys. It’s Halloween!”

I wont even go into the impact this could have had on my sensory-challenged kiddo. I was so proud and surprised by how quickly he recovered. Who says meds are a bad choice?!

I will admit as we were going to the car, we got to see the appropriate-aged children get theirs at the Chainsaw House. A gaggle of teenagers were walking up to the door loudly announcing how unscared they were. We watched the serial killer trot through the dark to hide behind a giant bush at the exit of the circular drive. As the kids were chuckling their way away from the property with superiority, he scared the piss right out of ’em. Now THAT is an appropriate use of a Halloween chainsaw gag. It’s far more challenging to impress fear on teenagers than a 5 and 9 year old.

Here’s hoping your Halloweens did not end up with a prescription of Xanax for your pre-Kindergartners!!

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