I wondered if I could find an image of the gypsy mask I wore when I was 5 years old. And I think I did! So a repeat from a Halloween Friday Five I did back in 2010:
The scariest Halloween was when I was five years old. The Brother was eleven. I was dressed as a gypsy. Ma bought the costume for a buck or two at the Five and Ten Cent store. The Brother was wearing the Robin Hood costume I coveted. My costume was made of cheap nylon. A green bodice with a gold skirt that fell to my ankles. I wore my winter jacket over this. There was also a plastic mask of a gypsy face with red lips, black hair, and painted hoop earrings. The Brother took my hand and we trick or treated to the six neighbor's houses on our street. The most popular house on the street was the Hunter's because they always invited all the children into their home. Yes, this was in the real olden days when Halloween was first celebrated. At some houses you would be invited in for doughnuts and cider or candy apples, and a small Halloween party. Even though the Hunter's children were all grown, they still invited kids in for doughnuts and cider. Mr. Hunter was kind of a big kid himself. He loved to dress up. We climbed up the Hunter's front steps. The Brother rang the doorbell. We could hear the Halloween party noises inside. I was very excited as this was probably the first time I was allowed out to go trick or treating. The door opened very slowly. A huge green ghastly hand was pulling the door open. A hideous ghouish face peered around the door. The Brother let go of my hand and crossed the threshhold. The ghoul was making hideous moaning sounds at me, beckoned me to come in and then reached to take my hand. The whole time this was going on, my mouth was frozen in a wordless O. As the ghoul's hand came closer to mine, I recovered my wits along with a heaping lung full of air. I flipped off my mask and let out a blood curdling scream that to this day is still echoing in the frozen voids of space. I leaped off the front steps. My trick or treat bag went flying. The skirt of my costume tore with a loud rrrriiiiiiiiiiiiippp as my feet tangled in the hem. Finding my footing, I went screaching up the street to my house waving my arms over my head to give me speed. The ghoul was close on my heels calling to me.
"Wait! It's me! Mr. Hunter!..."
I wasn't falling for that old trick.
Happy Halloween and Happy Birthday to Ink who turns 19 years old today.