Ghost Of Halloween Past. Here’s My Story. What’s Yours?

 

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I had been bugging my mom to get my Halloween costume for weeks. I was 8 or 9. She finally gave in – unfortunately, it was already Halloween day, and the shelves were nearly empty. Those were the days of boxed costumes with a kind of jumpsuit and a plastic mask inside. They were all VERY similar. I wanted to be a princess or a fairy, something sweet – something I had never been before. Well, mom came home with a Gumby costume.

So after tears and fears and lots of words, like “good sport” and “it doesn’t matter”, the desire for candy beat down my pride and I was “GUMBY!”

One house after another, the dialog was pretty much the same:

(ding dong)

(door opens)

Chorus of Children: Trick or Treat!

Candy Donor: Oh my! Oh, how cute. Are you having fun?

Chorus of Children: Yes!

Candy Donor: Okay, now let me see. Oh, a pirate and a princess. Oh, I see, a baseball player, a ghost and (pause) and. . . what are you, little boy?

Muffled Voice From Behind My Mask: I’m NOT a boy. I’m a girl.

Candy Donor: What’s that? A frog? Are you a frog?


Muffled Voice From Behind My Mask: I’m Gumby.

Candy Donor: Hmmmm? Casper? Are you Casper, the green ghost?


Muffled Voice From Behind My Mask: I’m Gumby.

Candy Donor:  (pause) Okay. . . well. Whatever you are, here you go. (drops candy in my bag)

Chorus of Chidlren: She’s Gumby.

Candy Donor: Huh?

Chorus of Children: Thank you.

Muffled Voice From Behind My Mask: I’m Gumby! (dejectedly to myself, “I’m never gonna do this to my kids when I grow up.)

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