Still searching for that perfect Halloween costume? Want to possibly offend anyone who lacks a sense of humor and a functioning pancreas? Look no further: I have the get-up for you. Impress your friends with your betes-expertise and your wit by going to your October 31st house party as: The Ironic Diabetic!
The unbreakable rule: NO sassy/sexy/scantily-clad version of this costume must be produced, or I will hunt you down and punch you right in the pancreas.
Step 1: Dress as a nerd or an old person, since clearly diabetics are either nerdy pager-wearin’ sugar-phobes or Price Is Right-watchin’ AARP cardholders who order from Liberty Medical. Duh.
Step 2: Fashion an oversized insulin pump out of cardboard wrapped in tin foil (or something like that), and be sure to make its label obvious and eye-catching, like BIONIC PANCREAS or ROBOT PART or NOT A PAGER. Attach a string or a long cord and tuck it in your clothing. Voila, you’re a pumper! (Note: technically if you’re type 2 diabetic, like Wilford, you won’t need a pump, but this is Halloween, so rules can be bent and broken.)
Step 3: [Here’s where the irony comes in.] Eat candy. Lots of candy. And anything else with carbs. Since I, one of the diabetic folk, have given you express permission, it’s acceptable, don’t worry about being insensitive. Just carry around a giant Slurpee, a king-sized Milky Way, a couple Hostess products–whatever you see in your local convenience store that screams from the shelf, “I will give you so much diabetes!!!” And after each gluttonous bite, make sure to make an exaggerated motion of pushing the buttons on your pump. Remember, you need insulin to cover the sugar you’re eating, and in this case, that means turning it up to 11, if you know what I mean.
Step 4: Leave a trail of test strips (they look like this) everywhere you go. Ask anyone I’ve ever lived with: these things show up every.where. And not just in my bed, or on my desk, but in my roommate’s shoe, or on the front steps. I’m telling you, they spread like pollen. So throw those suckers around, mark your diabeterritory.
- a Wilford Brimley cat
- anything else Wilford Brimley-related
- Liberty Medical shipment box
- Glucerna drink
- Jonas Brothers t-shirt (with I ❤ Nick written in puff-paint on the back)
- a friend to follow you around and say, “Um, can you eat that?”
- a copy of Diabetes Forecast
As for me, I’ve yet to decide what to dress up as on All Hallow’s Eve. If all else fails, I can bring the Betesaurus costume out of retirement.