Han Literally Solo

Lots of awesome stuff to write about Halloween, gang. So much funny that I’m going to break this up into a few easily digestible, Snickers fun-sized pieces.

A few weeks ago, Elijah and I visited the formerly abandoned storefront that was converted into one of those giant costume warehouses. We b-lined right past all the gore and found the Star Wars wall. Eli picked out his Clone Trooper costume and the most annoying laser gun in the history of man. I then turned my attention to the adult Star Wars costume.

There it was. Han Solo. Captain of the Millennium Falcon. I had to have it.

Eli tried to convince me to go as Darth Vader, but I ignored him and cradled my Han outfit.

CUT to two weeks later. Eli and I drove to his school’s Halloween party. We were both giddy at year two of matching outfits. Remember last year’s Curious George and The Man in the Yellow Hat?

Hold on a second. I know there are some of you out there who are thinking, “Hey, Han Solo was never in the same movie as the Clone Troopers. You weren’t matching.” To which I say, “Shut up, nerds.”

Once again, I was basically the only parent who dressed up. Dad who dressed up in a suit? You don’t count.

I walked in, no, strutted in. I was all swagger, as if I just got done helping Luke Skywalker blow up the Death Star. The first mom who spotted me said, “Hey, nice pirate costume!”

What? No! I wasn’t a pirate. I was Han Solo. Captain of the Millennium Falcon. Ok. Yes. My Han Solo costume was basically an open white shirt, blue vest and dark trousers. And I refused to shave my beard. So there definitely was a bit of Captain Hook going on. But I was with a Clone Trooper!

But I wasn’t. The major difference between this year and last year was last year Elijah was scared and shy. So I held him the entire time. It was a lot easier to get Curious George and the Man in the Yellow Hat when we were both together. This year, the minute we hit the party Eli took off to be chased by constant stream of girls shouting, “Eeeeeeeli!”

I found myself alone, in the corner and sweating in my polyester outfit. I could feel the other parents’ eyes on me. “What’s up with the weird pirate?” they all seemed to think.
Occasionally, I’d try to nap Eli and force him into standing next to me. But after a few seconds, some cute girl in a “Toy Story ‘Jessie’” outfit would yank him away. My face burned. I began a paranoid spiral where I imagined all the other parents laughing and pointing. I imagined them starting a “Rick is a total dork” club and I was the only one not invited.

A full hour before the party was over, I reached my limit of completely unwarranted humiliation and I lied to my son, saying the party was over and it was time to go home. He shrieked, “Noooo!” and I physically had to remove him from his friends.

As I dragged Elijah out the front door, kicking and screaming, I passed by a mom who was eating a cupcake.

“Nice pirate costume.”