Best Costume, no Costume at All

By Sheila Donnelly


The month of October has just flown by with Halloween coming upon us next Monday. Because Timmy and I are not eating wheat and sugar he isn’t going Tricks or Treating this year. He doesn’t mind as we both feel so good from eliminating these two foods from our diet. I have always liked Halloween and the celebration on November 1, the Day of the Dead that the Mexicans celebrate. I have been talking about Halloween and I have encountered several men that do not like this holiday at all. Their main reason is that they do not like to dress up in costume. Reporter, Josh Verges said, “I think it is a waste of time and money spending it on a costume that you wear for only a few hours.”
I don’t agree with him, as I have never spent much money on costumes but have gone to thrift stores and put articles of clothing together. These type of costumes are the least costly and usually the most clever.
My husband, Tom never liked to dress up for Halloween. But one year I talked him into wearing a white dish cloth wrapped on him like a diaper and he carried a baby bottle. He thought it was funny when he was at home and the kids thought he looked great, but when we arrived at the Halloween party we were attending, he didn’t last long walking around like that! I couldn’t get him to dress up for Halloween after that incident and he would say, “I don’t know how I let you talk me into dressing like that!”
But he likes to be the center of attention and the year I was pregnant with our fifth child, Theresa, he came up with his own Halloween costume. He wrapped his hand and taped his middle finger down and told everyone at the Halloween gathering we were at that he had sliced part of his finger off when he was cutting wood with the buzz saw. Right away the hostess of the party was very sympathetic to Tom. But one couple, David and Sue were watching Tom sip away at his beer and the two commented, “What kind of pain medication are you on that you are able to function and still drink alcohol?”
I was sitting near by and didn’t say a word as this was his prank. Tom slowly took a sip of beer, clutched his wrapped hand and said, “Darvon. It is really helping; I don’t feel too much pain. I do feel a little light headed though.”
David and Sue started to laugh as they did not believe him. The hostess of the party was angry because these two didn’t take Tom’s injury seriously. She came to me and said, “What is wrong with those two? I can’t believe the way they are carrying on. Anyone can clearly see that Tom is in such pain. I am so amazed and grateful that you made it to my party. I feel really bad for you as you are having this new baby soon. What a strain this is for you…”
I didn’t know what to say, so I kept my mouth shut and because of this the hostess thought I was in great stress. Several people offered me comfort about what a tough time our family was going through. I started to think that they were going to set up funding to tide us through this “terrible time”.
Tom didn’t know I was getting all this sympathy and he went on with his prank by going into the bathroom and took the bandages off his finger. He had a small cardboard box with a hole cut in the bottom and cotton wads in the box. He put red makeup on his finger and than put a lid on the box. Tom came out of the bathroom and walked up to the hostess and said, “The doctor gave my finger back to me today after I got it cut off, do you want to see it?”
The hostess looked horrified, but she gingerly opened the box, saw Tom’s “bloody” finger and gasped. Then Tom wiggled his “cut off” finger and boy was she ticked off then! His un-costume costume was a hit at the party, but he has never been able to repeat it again.

By Sheila Donnelly



One of the most delightful things about raising children is their sweet innocence and curiosity to learn new concepts. Last winter my son, Timmy had spent a week with his three older sisters, Bridget, Molly and Theresa. The girls speak very openly around him and often after they have gone is when I find out what they have spoken so openly about. I was sitting in the living room reading and Timmy was sitting next to his dad, who was doing a crossword puzzle, while at the same time watching television.
Timmy turned to his dad and asked, “What it is the difference between orgasm and masturbation?”
His dad was listening to the television and was not paying attention to Timmy.Timmy cleared his throat and asked once more, “What is the difference between orgasm and masturbation?”
I pretended to be reading intently as I wanted his dad to answer this question.
Timmy cleared his throat loudly one more time and asked, “Dad, dad. What is the difference between masturbation and orgasm?”
This time his dad heard him and looked up startled but he answered Timmy truthfully and in simple terms.
Timmy said, “Thank you. I didn’t really know what they meant. I thought I did, but that makes more sense.”
I was glad that Timmy was comfortable to ask this question. If I had asked my parents such a question when I was his age, I would have been interrogated about where I had even heard such words, slapped and then sent to my room.
When my daughter Molly was 11 she was at her friend Tara’s house watching a movie. In the movie the word masturbation came up several times. Monday morning when she and Tara went to school they asked several of the boy’s at the small Catholic school they attended if they had ever masturbated.
Most of the boys answered, “Huh? Gee, I don’t know. I don’t think so…”
A couple days later, one of the boy’s mothers, Laura burst into my kitchen her hair all array and said she needed to have some words with me.
“I was at the school today helping teach sex education to the girls and I mentioned to the principal that the girls were very open and asked very intelligent questions. The principal said that yes, the girls were very inquisitive. Why just last week the principal overheard Molly Donnelly asking my son, Ralph if he masturbated. This is not acceptable behavior. I will not have Molly asking my Ralph if he masturbated.”
I heard giggling in the other room.
I sighed and said, “Well, let’s ask her if she did. Molly, come out here.”
Molly slowly came out to the kitchen with pigtails in her hair and her head down.
“Molly, did you ask Ralph if he masturbates?” I asked.
“Noooo…” Molly stammered.
Laura shook her finger at Molly and said, “Listen. Don’t you ever, ever, let me hear you asking my son if he masturbates again, do you hear me?”
Then she left quickly slamming the door.
We all burst into laughter, and I said, “Poor Ralph. Okay, Molly what’s the deal. Why did you ask Ralph if he masturbates?”
“I don’t know what it means, and he didn’t either. Tara and I asked all the boys if they did. No one understood what it meant,” Molly said.
“Well at that little conservative school please be careful what you ask the boys. Next time come and ask me first,” I said.
I went to the principal the next day and told her what had incurred and she was embarrassed that Laura had gotten in such a huff. The principal thought it was a normal question that a young person would ask, and it is. I suggested that the school have someone with more experience teach sex education as Laura was too naive to see that Molly’s inquisitiveness was normal. But, she continued to be the teacher and her Ralph is now a man and I am pretty sure that Laura sees now that it was not such a big deal the day Molly asked her son if he ever masturbated.