Costumes, Tea and Curry

Dad, I want to get my Halloween costume today. Not tomorrow, not next week, today.

Um, ok. Why is today so important?

Well, I just feel that I need to have it and since I know what I want, why wait?

Why wait indeed. We can do that. Let me get my shoes on.

The weather outside is cold and wet but fall is in the air and that makes me pretty happy. I have a slight cough and my head is pounding but I figure that some green tea, some ibuprofen and some walking around Halloween Town will all contribute to me feeling better. Plus, I've been gone a lot and he needs to hang out with me. He has things to discuss. I can tell because he has that look of 'Hey, let's get out, you and me, and converse.' Getting a costume seems to be secondary.

Can I put in my iPod?

Sure. What are we going to listen to?

Oh, some sweet sounds, just you wait. (Fumbles around with iPod, finally gets it hooked up, now searching for song. Finds the desired track and plays it.)

(singing along) 'Hopped up out the bed/Turn my swag on/Took a look in the mirror/Said, What's up/Yeah/Get money/Oh.' (he continues to sing along to easily one of the dumbest songs on the planet but for the life of me, I can't get it out of my head).

As this plays in the background, we proceed to our first stop: Cafe Expresso. These are the best drive thru coffee places in SLC and I even have a punch card. I get green tea with honey and cream and we are off.

Why didn't you get coffee? I never see you get tea. I'm sorry you're sick. You don't sound good. I wish you felt better.

Thanks buddy, I wish I felt better too. But the tea soothes my throat and it doesn't have caffeine.

We arrive at Halloween Town and the doors are propped open, the rain is falling, the mist is swirling in the parking lot and it seems to me that the perfect time to get a Halloween costume is right--about---now. We enter and both of us start smiling.

Holy crap, look at that guy on the floor. Are those his guts hanging out? Gross. Kinda cool though. We should get one of those. Come on, let's go to the kids section.

Ok, sounds good.

The costume he wants is Michael Myers, from the Halloween movies. It's a jumpsuit, a mask and a knife. It is a serial killer costume that comes in two kids sizes: 7-10 yrs old and 11-14 yrs. old. You may be asking yourself, is this an appropriate costume for a kid? A serial killer? Really? My argument is it is the perfect costume for a kid. Why? Because the chances he will grow up and be a serial killer are like a billion to one. So, let him become a fake one for a season and then we can move on. Also, he does look really cute in the jumpsuit, the mask and the huge knife. Kind of absurd, really. It totally cracks me up. But it's not bloody enough.

Dad, we need blood. I want more blood on the suit and on the mask. That makes it more realistic. It looks kind of dumb without the blood.

I agree. Let us find blood.

Chrystal is our Halloween Town helper. She is very chatty and is very open to telling me what she is going to be for Halloween. She is going to wear a maid costume from the Playboy Costume Collection and then a very scary mask to kind of offset the whole fun, innocent maid thing. She is also planning to brandish a fake knife and the two of us have a very detailed conversation on the kind of knife that would work best for about three to four minutes. She is very passionate about her costume and I am very glad she works at Halloween Town. People like Chrystal give me hope for humanity. She also leads us to blood.

I like this kind. I wonder if this would work? (New employee comes over and gives advice).

No, you don't want that kind. It is very sticky and the spray mechanism jams. You need the splatter blood in the vial and it's over here. (Takes us to vial of fake blood). This is what will be most realistic.

Dad, can we get this kind?

Absolutely, we need to get as realistic as possible. Ring 'er up!

As we pull away from Halloween Town, in the glow of a very successful and enjoyable costume buying experience, I file away an idea I have for a costume store sometime in the future. It could be a great idea but I need to let it marinate.

Ok, my headache is gone, my tea is gone and I need food. You choose, anywhere you'd like to go.

I don't know...you choose, I want you to decide. OH! Noodles and Company. It's right over there, let's go there!

Fine.

As we sit down with our Bangkok Curry with Shrimp (me) and our Buttery Noodles (him), we share whatever comes to mind. This usually involves an array of subjects but today the topics are skateboarding, his brothers Anthony and Matteo, and his lack of short term memory.

You know, my mom asks me to do stuff and I forget. Like, I just go blank. I can watch her mouth move and I hear the sounds but I don't remember a thing she says. Maybe it's my ADHD. You know, I don't have to take my pill on the weekends so that means I am not as focused and I probably am more likely to forget.

You're not alone in that department my man. Everyone has trouble remembering. Can I give you some advice?

Sure.

Write it down. When she asks you to do specific things, write them down and carry the list with you. I do that. Then just refer to your list and go from there.

I do that sometimes. But then I leave the list in my pants pocket or in my backpack. In fact, she asked me to do something today...crap, I can't remember. Should have written it down.

It will probably come to you. Don't stress over it.

Finally, we finish our afternoon with yogurt from Lunaberry, a very nice little yogurt and crepe shop that is quite busy on a rainy Sunday afternoon. He gets vanilla with gummy bears and I get vanilla with cookie dough. We proceed to head back home.

Dad, why do you have to leave again? I hate it when you leave. It sucks.

I pull out my money clip and show it to him. For the first time in a year, it has more than $10 dollars in it.

This is the only reason pal: Get money. I don't like to leave either. But it makes being home a lot more enjoyable when you can buy the costume you want and get the bloody knife you want and not have to worry about how much it costs. Isn't that worth being apart for a little while?

He looks down and looks into his Halloween Town bag and then looks back at me.


I don't know. Maybe.