Halloween 2025 hit the TODAY show like a candy-fueled fever dream, with the annual extravaganza transforming Rockefeller Plaza into a whirlwind of wigs, warbles, and wardrobe wonders. Under the theme “Road Trip Through America,” anchors channeled icons from sea to shining sea – think Sheinelle Jones as a chaps-wearing Beyoncé from Cowboy Carter, Craig Melvin as Prince in full purple regalia, and Al Roker flexing as Rocky Balboa, complete with a fake Philly cheesesteak in hand. But amid the star-spangled spectacle, it was meteorologist Dylan Dreyer who stole the spotlight – not just with her pitch-perfect performance, but with a pre-show prank call that turned her family living room into a scene straight out of a slasher flick. At 44, fresh off her raw emotional confession about her crumbling marriage just days prior, Dylan could have phoned it in. Instead, she dialed up the drama, FaceTiming her sons from the hair and makeup chair and unwittingly launching a viral moment that’s got parents everywhere nodding in terrified recognition.

It was Friday morning, October 31, around 8 AM – prime time for the TODAY third hour, where the energy’s high and the coffee’s stronger than a witch’s brew. Dylan, perched in front of a mirror lined with bulbs brighter than a full moon, had undergone a total transformation. Gone was the sunny, pixie-cut weather whiz in pastel blazers; in her place stood “Frankie Valli,” lead singer of The Four Seasons, circa 1962. Slicked-back pompadour wig perched like a crown of gelled glory, a crisp white button-up tucked into slim black slacks, a skinny tie knotted just so, and eyebrows arched in eternal surprise. It was a homage to her childhood soundtrack – those cassette tapes her mechanic dad would dub from the oldies station, blasting “Sherry” and “Big Girls Don’t Cry” through their family station wagon. “I know every lyric from that era,” Dylan later shared on air, her voice cracking with nostalgia. “It’s in my bones – or should I say, my falsetto?”

But bones weren’t the only thing rattling when she hit “video call.” On the other end, back in their cozy West Village apartment (the fresh start post-separation from ex Brian Fichera), her three sons – Calvin, 8; Oliver, 5; and Rusty, 4 – were knee-deep in pre-trick-or-treat chaos. Picture the scene: Half-eaten Pop-Tarts on the counter, Spider-Man capes draped over chairs, and a pile of plastic pumpkins waiting to be filled. The screen lights up, and there she is: Mom, but… not Mom. The wig alone was a showstopper – jet-black, towering, and utterly alien on Dylan’s familiar face. Add the deep-set brows and the exaggerated Valli pout, and it was like staring into the abyss of a Jersey boardwalk funhouse mirror.

“You look terrified. It’s Mommy!” Dylan exclaimed in the clip that aired nationwide, her laughter bubbling up even as confusion reigned on the other side. Calvin, the eldest and ever the mini-skeptic, squinted at the screen like he’d spotted a glitch in the matrix. “You don’t look like yourself,” he declared, his voice a mix of accusation and awe. Oliver, wide-eyed and clutching a toy lightsaber, flat-out yelped: “Who are you? Where’s Mommy?!” And little Rusty? The 4-year-old firecracker burst into giggles that teetered on the edge of tears, pointing and babbling, “Wig! Wig monster!” Dylan, doubled over in her stylist chair, could barely breathe through the hilarity. “It’s a wig, buddy! See? Peekaboo – there’s your real mom under here!” She yanked at the edges playfully, revealing glimpses of her own hair, but the damage was done. The boys scattered like startled pigeons, Oliver diving behind the couch while Calvin demanded, “Prove it! Sing the rain song!” (A nod to Dylan’s weather gig, naturally.)

The moment, captured in a 45-second video that TODAY splashed across screens and socials, exploded faster than a jack-o’-lantern lit by lightning. #DylanFrankieFright racked up 1.2 million views on Instagram alone by noon, with parents flooding the comments: “My kid would call CPS on me!” and “This is peak mom win – scaring them straight into loving you more.” It was the perfect palate cleanser after Dylan’s gut-wrenching on-air breakdown about Brian’s betrayals – the hidden affairs, the drained savings, the ghosting that left her solo-parenting through storms both literal and figurative. Just 24 hours earlier, she’d cracked open her heart to the nation during a weather segment gone wildly off-script, tears flowing as she exposed the fairy tale’s fracture. Now, here she was, reclaiming the narrative with a wig and a whoop, proving resilience isn’t just survival – it’s serving looks and laughs in equal measure.

But the real jaw-dropper? The surprising pivot from panic to powerhouse. Turns out, those same spooked sons were Dylan’s secret weapons in nailing the on-stage strut. In a behind-the-scenes clip shared post-broadcast, the family gathered in their living room for a full-dress rehearsal – Dylan in prototype pompadour, belting “Walk Like a Man” with all the gusto of a boardwalk crooner. Calvin manned the air guitar, shredding invisible riffs with the focus of a tiny Springsteen. Oliver drummed on a plastic pumpkin, his earlier terror forgotten in the rhythm. And Rusty? The littlest Valli fan bounced like a human pogo stick, chorusing “Oh-what-a-night!” off-key but on-beat. “My boys know all these songs – they’re household anthems,” Dylan beamed during her plaza reveal, where she lip-synced the hit to a roaring crowd, complete with backup dancers in letterman jackets. She even toted family heirlooms to the set: A faded ticket stub and program from her mom Linda’s 1968 Four Seasons concert, yellowed edges whispering of simpler scares – no ex-dramas, just sock hops and stolen kisses.

This wasn’t Dylan’s first rodeo with kiddo costume critiques. Flashback to 2023: She channeled Pink – crop top, thigh tattoo, zero pants – and Calvin, then 6, gasped, “Mommy, you’re not wearing pants?! What’s that snake?!” Last year, as a flapper, Oliver dubbed her “fancy ghost lady” and refused to high-five. But 2025’s Frankie flip? It hit different, a testament to Dylan’s evolution from polished presenter to unapologetic every-mom. Post-split, with Brian sidelined to co-parenting cameos (spotted at a recent soccer game but otherwise MIA on the ‘gram), she’s leaned into the chaos: New apartment tours on Insta, bunk-bed farewells (“A lifetime of love ahead – minus the triple stack!”), and therapy shoutouts that normalize the mess. “Halloween’s about transformation,” she told ET pre-taping. “Mine? From heartbroken to high notes. The boys? They’re my backup band.”

The ripple? Relatable rocket fuel for TODAY’s empire. The extravaganza drew 4.8 million viewers – a 18% bump from 2024 – with Dylan’s segment trending over Carson Daly’s Elvis Presley reboot. Co-hosts piled on the love: Hoda Kotb, her “neighbor-sister,” texted mid-meltdown: “Those faces! Priceless – send candy as apology.” Savannah Guthrie quipped on air, “Dylan’s got range – weather waves to falsetto highs.” Even rivals chimed in: Gayle King retweeted the clip with “Mom magic at its spookiest!” As the sun set on Plaza pumpkins, Dylan rushed home for round two: Family feast of mummy-wrapped hot dogs, then a block parade where Calvin (as Iron Man), Oliver (mini-Frankie, wig and all), and Rusty (a pint-sized pumpkin) reclaimed the night. “Best fright ever,” she captioned a group selfie, boys beaming beside her deflated ‘do.

In a year of curveballs – shutdown scandals, crown roasts, and Colbert’s monster mashes – Dylan’s Halloween hijinks remind us: The scariest costumes aren’t ghosts or goblins; they’re the ones that make us question “Who’s that?” in the mirror. For Dylan, it was a wig-away from her true self. For her sons? A lesson in laughing through the fright. And for us? Proof that even after the storm, there’s always a song – and a surprise – waiting in the wings.