Halloween has always been a favorite holiday in my family. It’s my dad’s favorite holiday too. You know those people who like to decorate their house with mounds and mounds of Christmas lights like in the movie Deck the Halls? That’s my family on Halloween (only not as extreme, but it’s still pretty awesome). We decorate our front yard with gravestones and spiderwebs. Our living room becomes a spooktacular exhibit on classic horror films. Basically, our house is awesome at Halloween.
Halloween for us is great, namely because we’re huge sci-fi and fantasy nerds. My dad loves the old black and white horror movies, my sister loves sci-fi movies and Tim Burton films, and I like Harry Potter (duh).
Naturally, since Halloween is one of our favorite holidays, my family has some pretty funny stories. And, naturally, I’m going to recount them for you because they are hilarious, slightly embarrassing (for me at least) and fun.
But, full disclosure: As much as I love Halloween and all things fantastical (like wizards and witches), hard core horror sights scare the living daylights out of me. This little tid bit of information is crucial to you understanding why a lot (okay, most) of these stories are slightly (incredibly) embarrassing for me. So, here goes nothing:
The time I dressed up as a 50s girl in a poodle skirt and ran halfway down the block
One year, Maggie and I went dressed up as matching 50s girls with poodle skirts. This is probably one of the only “girly” costumes we ever actually had, minus the princess costume we both wore when were were both a year old, and the Raggedy Ann costume I wore when I was two. Basically, there were times that we actually looked like we enjoyed girlish things:
Well. That year while we were trick-or-treating, we stopped by this house in our neighborhood. It was big and yellow with a nice front porch was decorated all spookily: there was a coffin with what looked like a seemingly dead mannequin. Dad waited at the sidewalk as Maggie walked up to get her candy, shortly followed by me. I inched my way up the walk to the stairs, and as soon as my foot touched the first step, I found out that the mannequin in the coffin was not a seemingly dead mannequin. Why do I know this? Because as soon as my foot toughed the first step, the seemingly dead mannequin grabbed my foot.
I then screamed bloody murder, and proceeded to race down the walk and over two blocks. I was screaming the entire way.
Eventually, my dad grabbed my sister and found me across the neighborhood and we went back to the house. During my screaming escapade down the street I had passed some friends and was thoroughly embarrassed. Anyways. My dad walked with me up the steps and I found out that the seemingly dead mannequin was one of the residents of the house, dressed up as a killer from an unknown horror movie just trying to have some fun on Halloween.
Well, obviously I didn’t think it was funny at all at the time, but I’ll admit that when I was writing this, I was unsuccessfully stifling laughter in the Student Center and got some weird looks.
The time I went to the local haunted house and lost my dignity and self-respect
Remember when I gave you that full disclosure statement? Keep that in mind here.
During the fall of my junior year in high school, my parents decided to take my sister and I to a local church haunted house. I was, admittedly, sort of excited, mainly because some of my friends worked said haunted house, but I was also extremely nervous, because you know, most scary things scare the living daylights out of me.
So, we went to this haunted house. My dad, sister and I went through the house with a few other people, and, I kid you not, throughout the entire walk through the house, a walk in which I was somehow pushed to lead the group, I was screaming bloody murder at the top of my lungs. To make it even better (and by better I mean more embarrassing for me), the entire time I was screaming bloody murder and leading said group, I grabbed Maggie, who was then about a foot shorter than me and only 11 years old, and pushed her in front of me so she could lead. I held on to her the entire time and forced her to be my human shield.
We eventually got out of the house, and when we did, I was shaking, probably with some tears streaming down my face because I was still pretty freaked out. That’s when I heard the laughing. My dad and sister were laughing at me, which only made me cry in embarrassment more. I realized, however, that they not only were laughing at the fact that I was using my sister as a human shield, but it turns out that a haunted house worker is required to go along at the back of each group to make sure they navigate through the house correctly. Not only did we have a haunted house worker go along with us, but we got one of my friends, and when we got out of the house he was laughing so hard that I just went back to the car, half crying and half wallowing in embarrassment.
I got to school on Monday, and my other friends who worked the house promptly told me that they could hear my little girl screams from two rooms over. Joy. As if I wasn’t already embarrassed enough.
Nope. Not nearly enough, because the rest of the story happens a month later.
Back in 2011, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1 was released and, me being me, I was super excited. We had a drama club play going on during its opening weekend, so my friends and I ordered tickets for a late show on opening night. We all (and by all I mean like, three in a group of ten people) dressed up as characters from the books and movies and it was SO FUN.
Anyways. Most of us didn’t have our driver’s licenses yet, so my dad, being the awesome dad that he is, drove a bunch of us to the movies (he too was also excited to see the movie). He picked us up from school and we made our way to the show.
We drove, and we passed the parish hall where the haunted house was. I, still being incredibly embarrassed and still slightly traumatized from the experience, wasn’t going to mention anything. I looked over at my dad right as we passed, and then he points and says something that I will never, ever forget: “Hey look, Hannah! Over there! On the ground by St. John Bosco! It’s your dignity and self-respect!”
Everyone laughed, even me after the initial shock. Now, every time I pass St. John Bosco’s parish hall, I say hello to my lost dignity and self-respect, and chuckle a little, knowing I will never, ever step foot in that haunted house again.
The time I was Queen Amadala and I told my dad he could be Han Solo and almost made my mom cry
If you know me, you know I’m not a huge girly girl. I’m more so now than I was as a kid, but as a kid, when all the little girls were dressing up as Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella, I was dressing up as a witch or Tigger or Velma (more on her later). I think this broke my mom’s heart a little, but she still loved making my costumes all the same.
There was, however, one time that I was royalty for Halloween. Nope, I was not Queen Elizabeth or Princess Diana.
I went as Queen Amadala from Star Wars, and I made sure that I had the costume down to a tee, complete with all her crazy make up.
I was so excited to be Queen Amadala (I went through a short Star Wars phase as a kid) that one afternoon, I walked up to my dad and said, “Dad! Since I’m being Queen Amadala, you can be Han Solo and we can both be from Star Wars!” I was very proud of this idea.
Then my mom asked me, “What about me? I want to be from Star Wars, too!”
I responded, and my mom fully believed that I would reply with, “Yes mom! You can be Princess Leia!” But, it’s me, so I didn’t suggest the obvious costume: “Yea mom! You can be Chewbacca!!!”
My mom’s face dropped. I told my mom she could be a Wookie. So that’s how that day went.
The time I became obsessed with Harry Potter and was nothing else for Halloween ever again
Basically, everyone knows I’m obsessed with Harry Potter. It’s an known fact to everyone. I love Harry Potter.
The height of my love for the boy wizard was when I was in the third grade. I had Harry Potter posters in my locker, plastered on my bedroom walls, and talked about him 24/7 (much to my friends’ dismay). So, naturally, that year I went as Harry Potter for Halloween. Yes you read that right. I went as Harry Potter. Not as Hermione Granger. Not as Professor McGonagall. Harry Potter, and the costume was complete with a drawn on lightning scar on my forehead, a rubber wand (which I still have to this day), plastic round glasses and a Gryffindor tie that my mom made.
Not only that, I went as Harry for the next couple years straight. I wouldn’t dress as anything else really. I would dress up as something else for school or Girl Scout dances, simply because I didn’t want to seem too predictable, but every Halloween, there I was walking down the streets getting candy dressed as Harry Potter. Eventually, I decided that I should stop being a boy for Halloween when I got into high school, so then I started coming as Hermione, and have been Hermione basically every year ever since. One year I even went as Nymphadora Tonks, a witch who is a Metamorphmagus in the series and has hot pink hair. I loved that wig.
This year is actually the first year I wont be going as a Harry Potter character, all thanks to much persuasion by my friend Katy. Instead, I’m going as Black Widow from the Avengers and, while I’m slightly depressed I won’t be someone from the Wizarding World, I’m still pretty excited.
So there you have it. My most embarrassing Halloween stories. Let’s pray to God that I don’t have any this year.