Novembeard

Dads,

It's almost November and for some reason that means novembeard. So, shave on the 1st. Don't shave again until December. It's for a good cause (I'm not sure which) and it will keep your face warmer.

I've had a beard since college. I shaved it twice since I've had children. The first time I did my twins were two. They cried. My daughter wouldn't come near me for two days. When she did she wanted to know what happened to my Daddy feathers.

So, I'll partake in Novembeard and we'll see if it makes my children cry again. But, it's for a good cause, if I could just remember the cause.

Dealing with Your Kids' Crap - Sharpie Marks

I intend for Dealing with Your Kids' Crap to be a regular feature here. It will feature tips and tricks how to deal with messes, too much homemade art on the fridge, and some of the many challenges that kids throw at us with all of their stuff. My bag of tricks isn't that big so I would appreciate emails with those tips and tricks you've figured out already.

Sharpie Marks

Your darling angel made you a drawing. It's most likely of you and her and maybe a small animal. You take her word for it and smile then notice that the paper she handed you is decorated with Sharpie. It was a nice gesture but you quickly forget the drawing and run for the table that served as her easel.

Sure enough there are colorful marks all over it.

I've heard scrubbing with many things from Mr Clean to toothpaste will eventually remove Sharpie. These instructions usually include the word repeat. I'm not that industrious.

So I grab another marker and scribbled all over the table.


1) Mark.
2) Wipe.
3) Done.
4) Beer.

Now you have to use a DRY ERASE MARKER, the fatter and wetter the better, or your just as stupid as your kid.

Draw over the Sharpie marks, magically turning the permanent ink into dry erase ink.

Then wipe it off.

This works on most smooth and varnished surfaces. I wouldn't recommend it for fabric. So, if they ruined your couch with Sharpie it's your own fault for having nice things.

Note: This works on dry erase boards as well. It's a fun trick to play at work. Just make sure everybody sees you write with a Sharpie or they won't get it.

Boy vs Food

My children want to be many things. A princess/mommy/doctor, policeman/daddy/drawer, batman/transformer/Indiana Jones with a rope.

But the coolest thing any of them want to be? Food challenger.

My oldest got hooked on Man vs Food and has added food challenger to his list of occupations. I think he even made up the term.

I don’t know anything about competitive eating. Is the money good? Does Wet Wipes pay for endorsements? Will Prilosec help him build a nice IRA?

Is it a competitive field? Should he start training now? Where should he go to school?

When should he start? It’s sometime difficult to get him to finish a PB&J within an hour so I’m thinking of pushing him into it now.

We’ll start for small stakes. “If you can finish this Happy Meal combo in under half an hour you’ll get your name on the wall of fame...at home...in your room...above your door...so you know it’s your room...because your name’s on it...what was I saying?”

I could hold challenges for the whole family. None of them eat quickly and it could be great motivation.

“First one to finish their meal gets to go to a University. Second place is community college. Last place, we’ll be calling you to replace the fan belt.”

Conversely, should I want to discourage him there is a place up the road that serves a Hell Burger. You must be 18 and sign a waiver to order it. He is not 18. But there’s no saying I might share some of my Hell sauce with him.

It’s the gastronomical way of saying, “get a real job.”

Honestly, we should encourage out kids dreams. I want all of my kids to succeed at whatever they want. They only thing I tell them is that they find something that makes them happy. And, if he wants to be a competitive eater when he grows up I’ll be there to cheer him on and I’ll pester the person next to me and say, “That’s my son up there. No, the one clutching his chest.”

World Without a Snow Day or WTF Ohio?

I heard on the radio yesterday a story about Ohio. A school district there is testing a new system. On inclement weather days, instead of canceling school, they will hold class online.

This is a test. If it is successful it could be rolled out to other districts.

There are two reasons that this story doesn’t affect me personally. First, I am not in school. Second, I do not live in Ohio. So, it should be easy not to care.

But, c’mon. No snow day?

Now, I understand that a good education is important and we can argue all day whether or not school is the place to get it. But, no snow day?

I remember not having snow days. Until I was 8 I grew up north of the border. We walked to school in the snow. And, to play into the old whine, it was uphill both ways because the plows didn’t come around until after the first bell rang. And if you didn’t climb every drift on the way home you just weren’t doing it right.

I imagine it would have to be pretty severe to cancel school in any locale that frequently gets snow. That alone would be a reason to watch reruns of Hogan’s Heroes all day.

It’s different for us in Texas. We don’t get much snow. And, if it does snow, the white stuff could be gone by noon. If it’s too dangerous to travel the roads, it’s perfect to get out and play in. If the kids are stuck online “learning” then it melts away and a great experience is lost.

And, what about the excitement of listening to the closure announcements? It’s the only time I ever listened to the news back then. That in itself was educational.

Snow Day is the only surprise out that kids have short of a gas leak. It’s the one moment that school doesn’t have a soul crushing grasp of them. It’s the one loophole that gives kids hope.

With this new program, what are we telling them? If you can’t come to school, school will come to you. You are not safe in your own home. It’s not unlike Orwell’s thought police. Exactly like Orwell’s thought police.

The bell has to ring. Summer has to come. And snow must fall to give kids the hope that at some point, if even for a moment, the repetitive droning of teachers will cease, if only for a day.

On the plus side, if it works just fine there would be no reason to go to school ever again. If the online session qualifies the same as a makeup day we could shutter the schools and do everything online.

That would save a ton of money. No heating. No cooling. No lights.

But, it would have a ripple effect in the economy. Off-white paint manufacturers would be left with a glut of bone marrow white in their inventory. Without book covers pizzerias would have one less place to print coupons. Fat kids would go unbeaten up. Ram/Longhorn/Viking/Cougar/Wildcat/Eagle/Panther spirit would go un-rahed. Teachers would go unignored. Popular bands would loose publicity gained from once prolific desk carvings. School elections would may remain meaningless but poster board sales would take a hit. Future public speakers will not get to hone their skills on the PA system by reading the lunch menu. And, who, who on God’s green earth is going to wear that many hair nets?

Maybe they should get the day off. Maybe reading chapter 28 to the class for the second time after they have read chapter 28 on their own can be skipped. Maybe history will stay the same until the skies clear. Maybe x can remain unsolved just this one time so that our economy doesn’t suffer.

Give the kids their snow day, Ohio, and quit throwing yellow snow on their parade. 

Generational Theft and the Power of the Ninja

Halloween is this week, in case you're behind in costume shopping, and the kids have been talking for weeks about what they are going to be. My oldest decided that he was going to be a ninja mutant - a mixture of his snakes eyes costume and a new mask. It's like a ninja but it's a mutant.

To his credit, he really shouldn't know how cool ninjas are. Snake Eyes may be the only ninja he's seen outside of minions in cartoons. He hasn't had the benefit of watching Enter the Ninja, Return of the Ninja or Ninja 3: the domination. His generation has been deprived of the ninja fest that we grew up with.

Why? Because we stole it. Like so many other things, our generation has been reluctant to let go. we hoard what we grew up with and put our own twist on it to keep it out of the hands of children. We had to have a darker Batman. The Dark Knight was a great movie. But I can't show it to my kids. Not for years.

The Dukes of Hazzard just had to be updated. This was a case of us ruining something so nobody else could have it. The feature film equivalent of licking a sucker before having to give it up. Okay, licking on it is a nicer way of saying we pissed all over it.

Lucas crapped on Star Wars for everybody. 

So, we've taken these things from our kids just to keep them for ourselves. Even ninjas.

Ninja Gaiden was available to all ages when we were younger. Shinobi games were at every Chuck E Cheese and Showtime pizza on the planet. But we kept that for ourselves, too, by giving the most recent Ninja Gaiden an M rating. Selfish.

But, a ninja's awesomeness is not limited by ratings. It can't be ruined by it's appearance in Speed Racer. A kid sees a dude in a black hood with a sword and instantly knows that the ninja is a bad ass.

He may not have the benefit of Sho Kosugi to tell him why. But, no matter how hard we try to ruin things for our kids the ninja will prevail.

No child may ever want to drive the General Lee again, but every one of them wants to be a ninja.

A Father's Pocket

I carry a lot of crap in my pockets. I've already told you that, as a father, I need a knife in case of bear attacks and a handkerchief for snotty kids. On top of these items I carry my phone, my keys with a couple of alarm fobs on it, a pack of smokes, a lighter, a compact pen and, of course, my wallet.

I don't like the wallet. I used to carry a money clip. That was nice. By its nature I couldn't store frequency cards, receipts and everything else I tend to stuff in with my change. But, money clips suck. It wasn't a month before it stretched out and wouldn't hold anything. It took more and more bills to make it function. As a father, I have less and less bills. Breaking all 20s into 1s was an option but then I'd look like a stripper leaving her shift. Exactly like a stripper. And, you don't look like much of mobster peeling off ones.

I got another clip. Same problem. I bought one with hinge. That just broke. So I went back to a wallet. When I made the switch back, it hurt. I had never noticed how uncomfortable it was to sit on while driving.

Through a random series of events I met a guy for coffee today that designed a better money clip. If this has ever happened to you it must have been the same guy. He gave me a clip to try out. Here it is:

This thing looks like a monster, not gold plated tin. It's stainless steel - like a handgun or Doc Brown's time machine. And, it took a train to destroy the time machine.

It's called the Duck Bill Money Clip. The design is pretty clever, but what I like best is that it is clearly a case of form follows function. No design element got in the way of making a functional alternative to a wallet. It's not jewelry first. It's a money clip. Plain and simple. 

I'll let you know how things work out. I'm very optimistic, there's an audible snap when you remove your cash. I don't remember the others doing that at all. He demonstrated his by removing a stack of cards and bills and placing the clip on a single dollar bill. It held.

At the very least, it will certainly be less of a pain in the ass than any wallet.

Check them out at duckbilldesign.com.

Shameless plug

I'm a bit behind today so instead of writing an insightful post about searching poop for a swallowed Lego piece, I'm going to remind you that there are some fun things for kids' walls at www.amalgamatedtc.com.

Things like this

The poem reads:

If I had a rocket pack,
you’d not see me around.
I’d fuel it up, fire it up
and forever leave the ground.

I’d be a blur, a streak, a swoosh,
a dash across the skies.
A blazing trail of blue and red
with adventure in my eyes.

Here and there would come so quick
you’d never see me stay.
Hither and yon would go so fast,
they’d just be stops along the way.

Mountain tops and valley floors,
deserts, woods and foreign shores.
Arctic caps and jungle trees,
nearby lakes and distant seas.

There’s nowhere that I wouldn’t go,
with a trusty rocket pack.
I’d see the world, twice around
and once more coming back.

It's heads and rocket packs above hey diddle, diddle. And it makes a great gift, for me, if you buy it. Though fineartamerica gets most of the money.

There are other pieces available that include ninjas, rhinos, Danger Bears and more. So, click around and buy some stuff. Or just send me cash directly. It's your call. I'm good either way.

Spoiled Rotten Brats

Smack the cat

The new cat arrived at home over the weekend. The poll and other sources of popular opinion led us to name her Smack. I find this name a worthy successor to Yank, our former cat.

I hate cats. I think you've probably guessed that from previous posts, but I want to be clear, I hate cats.

Perhaps some day in the future, when they have been domesticated, I will like them. But mankind has never domesticated cats. They are not pets. They tolerate us at best and smother babies while they sleep at worst.

Look into a dogs eyes. What do you see? Love. Affection. A willing companion waiting to hear what it is that you want.

Now look into a cats eyes. It's a look that is hard to identify. That's because there is no human equivalent. It is a look that means only one thing. "I'm waiting for you to die so I can eat your eyes first."

There is no loyalty from a cat. There is no use in having a cat. And, truthfully, I question naming a cat, because what is the point in giving a name to a creature that will not come when you call?

I'm not alone in my hatred of cats to be certain. I highly recommend that you read "The Cat That Walked by Himself" in Rudyard Kipling's Just So Stories. In the collection you'll learn how the tiger got his stripes, the leopard his spots and how the cat conned his way into the human home against the wishes of man and dog.


As these are my beliefs I felt it best that I did not go to get a new cat. My wife and oldest son went to the shelter to find Smack. We waited for several hours. I got a call. Could we get two?

TWO!?

No, was the short answer.

A little while later I get another call. "Daddy, can we get two cats."

They grew up in foster together it would be wrong to separate them. Their little kitty hearts would break.

First of all cats don't have hearts. They have a little hole in their chest that contains their capacity for evil. Also, they don't have souls.

I guess I didn't really realize how much I loved my family until this weekend.

Meet Smack and Pop.

They best part is, it appears that these two were not life long friends. Pop is Smack's tormentor. Adoption was probably Smack's only hope of escaping the bullying and we brought her nemesis home with her. Pop is a great con artist, just like Kipling's original house cat, and she does a great impression of Church the cat from Pet Sematary.

Weekly Fatherhood Recap

Books read: 3

Parades attended: 1

Shriners spotted: 6

Candy collected: 2 lbs

Snow cones purchased: 5

Sleepovers hosted: 1

Soccer practices: 1

Parks attended: 2

Played monster: 2

Butts wiped (not including self): 1 (8 times)

Dinners cooked: 3

Boo-boos bandaged (not dinner related): 3

Straight A Report Cards: 1

Total Fatherhood Points for week: 1000 (It's a complicated algorithm)

Advice for New Parents - When the Kid's Asleep, Raise Hell

Shhhh, the baby’s sleeping.

Would you like to say that, forever? Would you like to yell at people for calling on the phone because they were supposed to magically know your brat was a light sleeper and it was nap time?

When you first get your kid home, vacuum while he/she is asleep. I’m not really advocating doing housework. If you want to just leave the vacuum running outside the nursery, that would work fine to.

They sleep like the dead the first few weeks. No noise will wake them.

Have a party, fire up the table saw, have your Kenny G cover band, the G Whizzes, over for rehearsal.

The kid won’t wake.

And, as they get older, they will continue to sleep soundly.

If you take this advice I say you’ve made a good choice. Unlike the call on the cover band. Kenny G? Really? What's wrong with you?

You’re a Dad You Need a Handkerchief

Hard to spell but great to have. I don’t know why it took me so long to start carrying one of these in my pocket. Since I have, it’s come in handy many, many times.

I’m not talking anything fancy. White, cotton, comes in a dozen almost anywhere. You don’t need your initials on it to wipe snot off of a kid's face.

It may seem outdated, but it’s completely practical and indispensable for fathers. Sure, you can tell them to wipe their nose on their sleeve. But, sometimes they miss and use your sleeve.

It takes nothing to fold one up and have in case of a sudden sneeze, a spilled drink or just the general stickiness that kids seem to revel in.

As an added bonus it provides a nice barrier between ass and pocket knife.

Family Movie Night - Great Muppet Caper

I decided early on to raise my children the right way, Bugs Bunny and Jim Henson properties. No Wiggles. No Barney. None of that.

So with that came early exposure to the Muppets. And while the later Muppet movies aren’t the best, the originals still hold up.

The best of these is the Great Muppet Caper. How great? I still have, and know several others, that still have the collectors glasses from Burger King.

If you’ve forgotten it, Kermit and Fozzie play twin reporters covering a jewel heist in London. Gonzo is the photographer. They team up with the other Muppets at the Happiness Hotel.

Oh there are bugs, and there are lice, sure they have their little problems but you’ll never beat the price.

They take down the sinister Charles Grodin and save the day.

Some quotes to prove it’s still funny:

Gonzo: (To a man and his date) How about a picture of you and you’re wife? Just $10 bucks.
Man:    My wife isn’t feeling well.
Gonzo: Maybe she should be at home.
Man:    My wife is at home.

Fozzie: (spooning endless sugar into champagne) You know if you put enough sugar in this stuff it tastes just like ginger ale.

I’ll spoil no more, but if you’re still on the fence remember the great scene with John Cleese.

I’m pretty sure my kids enjoyed it, too.

Milestones - First Moment of Cognition

One of the coolest milestones of a developing child is when they can understand you.

It is this glorious moment of actual interaction that gives you hope as a parent. A brief semblance of possible control over your children. You now have one more tool in your belt aside from physically stopping whatever dangerous action is transpiring.

Certainly, it’s a false sense of hope, but at that first moment of cognition there is a euphoric feeling that you’re doing something right.

What makes this moment even cooler is that it happens before they can speak. Which means that they can’t talk back.

My first experience with this was, of course, my oldest son. He was toddling through the living room. I was sitting comfortably. Neither of us wanted to stop.
There was a piece of paper on the floor. I asked him to pick it up and put it in the trash.
And, he did it! I’m not underselling this when I say it was the coolest thing ever.

He stopped and looked at me. Picked up the trash, opened the pantry door and dropped it in the can!

I was so excited. I called my wife and told her, in every detail, what had happened.

By the time the twins came along I knew that just because a child could understand you didn’t mean they would do what you say. At least not without an argument. The greatness of this moment had worn off. 

So, it snuck up on me.

It may just be a father’s eyes that tells me my children are smarter than most but I offer this as objective proof - my twins could tattle before they could talk.

They would toddle to me or mommy and point at their brother or sister and start babbling.

Once again I was sitting, something I truly enjoy, and I saw the offense happen.

My youngest son pushed his twin sister. She fell all of 6 inches and landed on a diaper padded rear. This, obviously, upset her. She ran to me and pointed at her brother putting forth a prosecutor’s case in complete gibberish.

“I saw him.” I told her. “Push him back.”

A light when on. She understood me. She did not know that retaliation had been an option. A smile crossed her face, she ran back to her brother and pushed him down onto his rear.

He stood up, ran to me and started complaining in toddlerese.

“You shouldn’t have pushed her.”

He understood. He looked defeated.

“Now go hug your sister and make up.”

They did. They hugged and made up. And ever since they have understood when we talk to them. Now, whether they listen or obey, is completely different.

Things Will Change

This weekend will hopefully afford me some time to concentrate on this site and make plans for the kind of content that will appear.

This is your last chance to speak up.

A Father's Blog has been up for six or seven weeks.  I appreciate the already steady readership and would love you feedback. Please let me know what you have enjoyed so far. What you haven't liked. Any thoughts you have for content. What you would like to read about. And so on, so forth and whatever.

If you're not comfortable leaving a comment you can contact me at contact@amalgamatedtc.com

If you don't want me to know who you are, you can leave an anonymous post.

I truly value your input. Most of you anyway.

Also, if there is not more input on the cat's name it looks like it is going to be Smack. Smack the cat. If you can live with that, so can I. 

Thanks again,

Your Humble Host

A New Cat

It looks like the only thing the kids want to remember the old cat by is a new cat.

This goes against everything I believe. Not replacing an animal, but that cats suck.
But their momentary happiness is more important to me than my beliefs that cats are evil.

I only let cats into my home on a conditional basis:

1. I get to name it.

2. It must be litter trained before it steps into my home.

3. Claws = gone.

4. Short hair. Never going with a "medium length" cat again.

5. It's not my cat.

So the discussion at the dinner table last night turned to names.
I'm a firm believer that you can't name a pet before you meet it. But this isn't a loving companion, it's a selfish cat.

So, I'm taking a poll, vote in the comments. Suggestions are also welcome. Here are the names:

Fidget
Underfoot
Cat
Smack

Thanks for your help.

Pouting Match

Despite having a roof over their head, being well fed, being shod, possessing countless coloring books and happy meal toys, never having to rewind a VHS tape in their life and being able to pause live TV, my children still find a reason to pout.

My youngest son is especially good at it. He can sit perfectly still, arms crossed, with a thousand yard stare for quite a while.

If you haven't already sent him to his room, the best way I've found to beat a pout is with a pout. So, pout back. Mock the hell out of him/her. Cross your arms the same way. Stare at the same nothing. Sit next to him/her and ape their breathing.

One of two things will happen. The kid will crack up and tell you to stop it, dad. Or, the kid will try extra hard to pout. Kids don't hold back. They go full tilt pout right out of the gate. So, when they try to go to hyperpout, they lose their focus and forget why they were pouting. Then you crack.

Okay, there is a possibility that they can pull off the hyperpout. But, they'll stress so much that they'll fart. Then everybody cracks up.

Princess Time - Krull

Krull

The Beast and his army of Slayers invade the planet Krull in a black castle that is also a spaceship. Despite this amazing leap in technology, they still use swords for some reason. To defeat The Beast, the hero must first obtain the Glaive, an ancient bladed weapon with six prongs that was probably bought at a flea market or truck stop. Then he must travel, like, eight or nine places to find out where the castle is. He teams up with a cyclops and thieves, a seer and some weird shape changer.

They ride on Fire Mares - horses that run so fast that their hooves light on fire and they can fly. 

Once at the palace he confronts The Beast and uses the Glaive which proves ineffective. Through the power of love, he turns his hand into a flame thrower and defeats The Beast all to save Princess Lyssa.

There's your princess, sweetheart. Enjoy the show.

What we remembered: The Glaive and nothing else. Well, the Atari 2600 game, but only the parts with the Glaive.

What we thought: We thought it was surprising that Liam Neeson and Robbie Coltrane's careers survived Krull.


What my daughter thought: I'm just playing around here. I wouldn't show my kids this piece of crap.

But, in case you liked it, here's the link.

Eff Tuffets

Do you know what a tuffet is?

It's a small hill.

Do you want to explain that every time you have to explain what curds and whey are?

Wouldn't you rather read a poem about a kid with a rocket pack? Or something about ninjas?

Jet fueled kid's poetry and art is now available for sale at www.amalgamatedtc.com

They're perfect for hanging in a kid's room, a play room, or really any room in which a kid might look at the wall.

There are a few selections available now. More will follow.

Rest assured, I'll keep you posted.

RIP Yank

The family cat passed away over the weekend. She had been with us for almost 11 years and the kids had known her all of their lives.

It was a sad Saturday for certain.

When I took her to the vet, they gave us 5 lapel pins of a gray cat with wings and a halo. These actually helped.

When the kids woke up from their naps we told them what happened and gave them each a pin.

We went with the Rainbow Bridge story - a place where our pets are suddenly healthy again and they get to run around green pastures and meadows. This didn't sound fun enough, because I'm not sure they all know what meadow or pasture is, so when they asked if there was a TV there for Yank I told them yes.

It seemed like a good idea at first. What's another lie on top of egg delivering bunnies and tooth hoarding fairies?

But, as nice as the Rainbow Bridge sounded, the "happy" part comes when you tell the kids that are coping with their first real personal loss "you'll see the cat again when you're dead."

Seemed a little off to me. But they bought the story and wore the pins and we had a party all day for Yank the cat.

Sunday was better and though I'm sure we'll still get, "When is Yank coming back?" on occasion I think they understand, at the very least, that they made her happy and that she'll miss them too.

Halloween Costumes For Kids and Families

Halloween looms near. As a parent you have to think about costumes a little harder. You can't just go dressing up like Gary Coleman and asking everybody if they can spare a kidney. That leaves your kid right out of it. Unless, he/she's the kidney.

Before 3 years old, children don’t really make the call on what they are going to be for Halloween. So, for these two or three years, they become accessories to your costume. You’re going to be stuck with them anyway might as well make the most of it.

Here are some ideas I’ve seen that worked well and some we’ve pulled off as well:

1) Moms, if you put a flower on your infants head and stick them in a flower pot you are Anne Geddes.

Dads, if you do it you are just weird.

2) Mom or Dad, dress up like the empire state building. Dress the kid as King Kong.

You could both dress up like the World Trade Center towers and have a friend dress like Jeff Bridges or Charles Grodin to mimic the Kong of the 70’s. But, this may be in poor taste. Especially if the kid pees on you. That would be disrespectful.

3) For the whole family, dress the kid like a lion. You grab a whip, a chair and a pith helmet and dress yourself like a lion tamer. Mom is the sexy assistant.

Bonus: The sexy assistant.

4) The organ grinder and the monkey. Dad, you’re the organ grinder. Kiddo is the monkey. Mom? 6 foot banana.

“A banana holding a monkey?! Now I’ve seen everything.”

The monkey costume is store bought. The organ grinder can use an altered pirate costume. Build your own hurdy gurdy.

How do you get your wife to dress like a 6 foot banana? That’s for you to figure out. All I can say is that it wasn’t easy.

Bonus: Put a speaker in the organ and play the circus song (“entry of the gladiators” - that took two days just trying to figure out what it was called) then give the kid a cup and have him dance for nickels. We made like 4 bucks.

Here are some other, untested, thoughts:

5) Dad, you’re Peter Venkman. Kid is Slimer.

This isn’t even a stretch the way these things drool and crap.

6) Dad, you’re the Death Star. Your son is the Millennium Falcon.

This one works great if you're fat and the kid is Millennium Falcon shaped.

7) You’re the Bandit. The kid is Smokey.

Teach the kid to say "sumbitch" or smoke cigars for authenticity.

8) Kuato from Total Recall.

9) You wear a sign that says "after." Pin one to the kid that says "before."

10) Dad, shave any facial hair. Put a goatee on the kid. Evil you.

How else can a child be a Halloween accessory?