Tuesday, March 11, 2008

The coco monster

When I was growing up, I wasn't so much afraid of the Boogie Man, as I was the CoCoKai. We had a national geographic magazine and there was this scary looking Aborigine in a mask, and somebody nicknamed it the "CoCoKai." So my sister was soooooo afraid of the CoCoKai. If we heard weird sounds, it was the CoCoKai. If you were afraid of the dark, it was because the CoCoKai was out there waiting. That CoCoKai was a pretty gnarly dude, and gave the Boogie Man a run for his money.

Fast forward to 2008. My brother stops by the other night, after spending the day pretending he was a Harley badass, riding around with his friends on their motorcycles. It was night when he stopped by, and we were just yakking it up in the kitchen. He was mentioning the cold, and pulls out his thin face mask that wraps around his face while he rides. Looks a little something like this. Oh, and he also has the skeleton gloves.


I get this GREAT idea that he should go spook the kids. I'm sure I'll be the subject of many therapy sessions when they get older, but if you can't scare your kids, who's can you scare? In my maternal defense, they weren't asleep, but were in bed, SUPPOSED to be asleep. He puts the mask on, a black beanie, sunglasses and the gloves. I head up the stairs ahead of him, and do the whole mom "You better be in bed or something will eat your feet while you sleep" speech. The lights are off and I turn into my room, which is right by theirs.

I wait, anticipating the reaction. I start to think he changed his mind, until I see one skeleton hand wrap it's fingers around the edge of the upstairs cabinet. I about pee my pants, I find it so funny. All of a sudden, Oldielocks appears in the doorway of her room, saying she needs to blow her nose. Forget the nose, she's going to blow my skeleton surprise. She glances down the hall, and as quick as a bucket of moldy bones, my brother turns around and acts like he's talking to the Hubby, who himself is having a hard time containing the giggles. All you see is the back of my brother, and she heads back into her room. I once again shut the door, and wait. I peek around the door, and hear the tiniest creak. My brother is bent over double, stifling laughter, with his skeleton hand wrapped around his skeleton face. There is nothing funnier than a skeleton chuckling up and down. We are mean, mean people. There is a special place for people like us, I'm sure. Then again what would my kid write about in Monday's journal for school? I have to provide some form of inspiration for her, or her stories would be so boring.

Anyways, the bone giggles stop and he leaps into their doorway and slams the door behind him I hear a scream and insane giggling behind it. They were not scared in the least. They laugh like crazy,and Oldielocks says..."Is that supposed to be scary? It's just Uncle _____." They thought it was great, and the next morning Middle says "Was it Halloween or something? " I guess it's time for my kids to learn that you can dress up like a skeleton everyday, not just Halloween.

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