Momservation: Secret to a happy marriage: don’t share bank accounts and don’t compete in the same Halloween costume contest.
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He had me at: “I want you to have half of my $100 prize money.”
That was 25 years ago this Halloween. If my Future Hubby hadn’t said those words as a peace offering, I might be writing a different story today. But like they say: holding a grudge is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. But when you’re a starving college student and someone gives you 50 bucks to let it go—bygones are easier to bygone.
It was Halloween 1991 and I’d come up with an ingenious (and cheap) holiday costume. No perky cheerleader, sexy witch, or adorable baby for me. When I walked into a college Halloween party I wanted people to laugh and high-five me with one hand while spilling their beer on me with the other.
So I dug up brown leggings, a green turtleneck, bought garland, ornaments, battery-operated Christmas lights, and made a tinfoil star. Kelli Christmas tree was going to kill it at the parties.
Future Hubby was not so much into Halloween. Why should you have to dress up to get a beer? Cowboy it was: flannel, jeans, cowboy boots, big buckle, hat. Sans the hat and buckle, pretty much what he wore every day.
My illuminated costume was indeed a hit at the many pre-Halloween parties. So when we heard a favorite bar was giving away prize money for best costume on Halloween I got excited.
“Oh my god! I’m so going to win that $100!” I squealed to Future Hubby.
I think then is when his dormant competitive streak, stifled during the wooing stage of our one year relationship, could be suppressed no more.
In a last minute costume change he decided to borrow his fraternity brother’s simple yet hilarious costume that had been getting high-five’s and spilled beer rave reviews at all the pre-Halloween parties:
Windblown man. Thread a metal hanger through the seams of a blazer, tie, and shirt and bend it back as if being blown by the wind. Tape newspaper to your arm or leg. Gel your hair back. Add a blown-out umbrella for effect.
I was a little annoyed that Future Hubby was throwing his hat in the costume contest ring knowing I was going for the grand prize. But I still thought my clever little costume would beat out his site-gag. No harm, no foul.
Until it was voting time. Future Hubby and I are the last two finalist left on stage. It is voting by loudest cheers. Deep voiced guys hooting for me. Sexy witches and perky cheerleaders screaming their guts out for my guy.
Future Hubby wins the $100 and I am livid. He can’t understand why.
“You don’t even like dressing up for Halloween and you borrowed your costume! I’ve been planning mine for a month! I even made my own ornaments! You didn’t care about the contest until I wanted to win it! You don’t need the money! And you only won because those horny bitches can scream louder than drunk dudes!” I cried taking it way too personally (just add alcohol). I stayed at my place that night.
The next morning when I had gotten over myself and went over to Future Hubby’s ready to let it go, he greeted me at the door with $50.
“I want you to have half of my $100 prize money.”
I had been a raving lunatic, but he just wanted me to be happy. I accepted the money and we brought it in for a hug and a kiss—our first fight, and potential deal-breaker, navigated smoothly.
We celebrated our 20-year wedding anniversary this month despite the Great Halloween Fight of 1991.
And after 26 years together a part of me still thinks…he should’ve given me the entire $100.
#HalloweenMemories #BestHalloweenCostumes #MineWasStillBetter