Thursday, October 30, 2008


This is my favorite Halloween joke:

A little boy was trick-or-treating. A man answered his door and after the little boy asked “Trick or treat?” the man gave him candy and asked, “What are you supposed to be?”

The little boy said, “I’m a birate!”

The man said, “A what?”

The boy answered, “I’m a BIRATE! A BIRATE!!”

The man said, “Oh… Well, If you’re a pirate, then where are your buccaneers?”

The little boy pointed to the side of his head and said, “Here are my buccaneers, where are your bucceneyes?”


When I was a senior in high school and my sister Sissy a freshman, we were dating best friends, Bill and Jason. They had planned a big surprise for us one Friday night, and Sissy and I were so excited all week looking forward to it. The boys had cleared whatever they were going to do with our mom, and we were supposed to dress up for whatever it was. (You know, khakis instead of jeans.) Why it didn’t occur to us that this surprise was happening on Halloween and might be a little suspect because of that, I have no idea.

Friday night came. We took our baby sister trick-or-treating, then came home to get ready for our dates. Bill, my boyfriend, called at the last minute to say that he had been grounded, but my sister’s boyfriend Jason was going to take care of our surprise for both of them. I was so disappointed, but I got ready anyway because Bill said I’d still enjoy it, even without him there.

All ready for our big surprise, Sissy and I sat in the living room waiting for Jason to come pick us up. Momma and our step-dad Dennis were back in their room watching tv. It kept getting later and later, and we didn’t hear anything at all from Jason. We took turns going to Momma and Dennis and checking to make sure it was still okay that we could go out. It was getting close to 11pm and we couldn’t believe that they had given permission for us (especially Sissy at only 14) to START a date that late. I never had a curfew as long as they knew where I was and who I was with, and Sissy was usually okay if she was with me, but still…

Momma came in the living room and asked us to go out to our van and get her box of cross-stitch supplies. I volunteered, but she said the box was really heavy and that it would probably take both of us to lift it. So, we went outside and opened the back door to the van. We started to lift the box and realized that it wasn’t heavy at all. We both started to say something about Momma being nuts because of how light the box was, but before either of us could get the whole sentence out of our mouths, a man jumped up from the backseat. He was wearing a mask and was yelling. It scared the crap out of both of us! Sissy started screaming at the top of her lungs and ran about 3 feet into the yard before turning around to face us and scream bloody murder again. She had her hands up at her face like she wanted to cover her eyes and make it all go away, and her mouth was wide open in terror.

I, on the other hand, reached up, grabbed the guy by the collar of his shirt, dragged him over the backseat, threw him onto the driveway, and started kicking the bejebus out of him. As I was kicking him, I was yelling at Sissy to get inside the house and call the police. She took off running towards the front door and I just kept on kicking. The guy was still in the mask, lying in the fetal position on our driveway with his hands covering as much of his head as he could manage. Our mom came out of the house before Sissy even made it to the door. When she saw what I was doing, she started yelling, “Stop kicking him! You’re hurting him, Melanie! It’s Jason! It’s just Jason!” It took me a few seconds to register what she was saying (and to stop kicking).

So, THAT was our big surprise. Our boyfriends were going to scare the living daylights out of us, and our mother was in on it. We were so lucky! And, we had to dress up for it too. Nice! Jason ended up COVERED in bruises from my kicks. He wasn’t a huge guy, maybe 5’10” and he was a skinny little thing, but I’m only 5’2” (in shoes) and I only weighed about 90 pounds at the time. I don’t know for sure what I would have done if Bill had been there too, but I learned I definitely have the fight part of the fight-or-flight-or-freeze response. And I’m REALLY strong when it kicks in!

So, don’t mess with me! :P* * * * *


Diane said...

No matter how many times I hear that story, it makes me laugh.

There is another 'F' in the fight or flight scenario, you know. I know (oh, yes, I do) because it's what I do... faint.

My roommates in college did something similar to me (except that they came screaming out of my closet). All I could do was sink to the floor... jelly-kneed and doing the whole silent scream thing. Hideous. And pitiful. It's what I do in dreams, too. Yeah, something bad ever happens to me? I'm screwed. Totally screwed.

Protege said...

Mel, I love the way you can take care of yourself! Way to go!
The story, as always, makes me laugh.:)
Have a Happy Halloween.:)