Daddy's Desk - Nov, 2007 "Halloween Costume Crisis"

On the surface, it was just another festive Halloween night for the Galucki family. Christopher ran from house to house with the biggest smile on his face, yelling things like “Daddy, look at me, I’m Trick or Treating!!” But behind the scenes it was pure drama, comparable in many ways to the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962. A movie came out a few years ago, “Thirteen Days”, which depicted the hidden details the Kennedy administration
dealt with that October. In hindsight, the Cuban Missile Crisis seems rather tame compared to the unfolding, harrowing drama experienced at our household this fateful October.

Oct. 19, 6:38 PM: Up until a few weeks ago, Christopher was dressing as the blue and red clad Spiderman. No debate. His mind made up months prior, as his brothers were poised to dress as Spiderman villains “Sandman” and “Venom”. Then the reality of actually wearing the Spiderman costume began to consume Christopher. Perhaps the pressure of being the only superhero in the household, against two sinister villains, was too much for him to bear. The concept of wearing a costume was fine, it was the actual reality of it that seemed to be messing with his youthful mind. Suddenly, with just weeks to go, he began telling us he no longer wanted to be Spiderman. And he wasn’t just “telling” us…he was telling us with conviction.
Oct. 24, 4:15 PM: Alternative costumes are placed on standby. We offered every costume imaginable. He insisted he wanted to just go as “Christopher”. We explained that going as “Christopher” no longer qualified as Trick or Treating, but instead was akin to begging. He didn’t quite grasp what that meant.
Oct. 28, 3:39 PM: An old Buffalo Bills toddler jersey is discovered in the national archives (our attic). It’s musty and dingy, but it could work. Christopher is skeptical.
Oct. 30, 2:26 PM: The attorney general (my wife Laurie), has brokered a deal: if Christopher promises to wear a Halloween costume, he can pick out 2 brand new Matchbox cars at Target. Christopher agrees to the terms, but adds one small caveat: he now wants to dress as “Zero”, the ghost dog from the movie “A Nightmare Before Christmas”.

Oct. 30, 3:17 PM: Laurie remembers seeing a “Zero” costume at the Disney store. She runs over there and discovers just one problem, the costume is actually designed for a real dog. With pressure mounting, Laurie decides to go with the dog costume and somehow find a way to make it work.
Oct. 31, 7:25 AM: Christopher does not like wearing a dog costume. He loses it. With no time for rational discussion, the National Guard (our 2 other sons) are summoned for assistance. The Homeland Security Threat Level is raised to “Orange”. Each of us grabs a Christopher limb and the Buffalo Bills jersey is forced onto his screaming body. He fights it with all his might, stiffening his arms and legs like steel rods. Laurie considers calling Father Fred for an emergency exorcism. With the jersey on his body, and veins popping out of his forehead, he is rushed into his car seat and strapped down. A diversionary DVD is played on the way to school.
Oct. 31, 8:18 AM: The world holds its breath.

Within 3 minutes of driving time, Christopher has completely forgotten what he is wearing and normalcy prevails. Meanwhile, the rest of the world will never know how close it came…I’m still convinced the Kennedy administration had it easy back in 1962. A few nuclear warheads pointed at us 90 miles away? Please.