Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Y2 Day 63: A Very Happy Halloween

Last year around this time, Li'l Martini reminded me that Mimosa started trick-or-treating solo when she started middle school, "so me and Shrieki can go on our own next year, right?" he said. And I'm thinking, Absolutely not, you two are CHILDREN [and also morons], so we've spent the subsequent year practicing "What Would You Do If?" scenarios (I'm too tired to write up the entire one involving the baby-eating devil worshipers, but trust me, [a] it's awesome, and [b] Martini's response is freaking hilarious. Another day, perhaps), but Father Time worked his usual magic and this year I didn't even bat an eye. The kid'll be 12 in two months, he goes to Starbuck's by himself after school (to get a cocoa with whipped cream — he says he feels manly holding a paper hot cup), he is totally ready for this.

Nonetheless, when I dropped him at Shrieki's house, it was hard not to trail them all the way down the block . . . and I did get a little teary. He's my baby, after all.

Mimosa, sitting next to me, rolled her eyes. "Did you carry on like this when I went alone the first time?"

Well, yes, I suspect I did, because that was the year all the neighborhood moms agreed that the time had come, and as I recall we had an elaborate list of rules (call every 20 minutes! do not veer from our established route! never leave a girl alone!) and the girls went out in a pack of eight or something, and we all sat at Good Neighbor Anne's house anxiously sipping wine until they returned safely.

It seems like a decade ago. These girls will be driving in about five minutes.

But! That day is not today.  

Today, Mimosa decided that she's too old for trick-or-treating (probably true; she's 15 and looks like she's 20, particularly in a costume) and she didn't really want to get together with friends; she wanted to watch a "scary" movie with me. We'd hoped to see Frankenweenie, but it isn't playing anywhere at a time that worked for us, so we chose Plan B: dinner at one of our favey places, Summer Shack. But first I got Martini into his Punk costume, all gothy eye makeup and tattoos and spiked hair and safety pins, and he looked freaking fantastic, and we dropped him off at Shrieki's house on our way to dinner. And then I wept a little and then had some fried oysters and white wine, which I later topped off with Peanut M&M'S and white chocolate Kit-Kats.

Husband did a masterful job holding down the fort and serving trick-or-treaters, and there's a significant dent in our candy bowl, so I guess we were busy! There are a lot of kids in our neighborhood, which is nicknamed Fertility Hill, and the weather was clear and only slightly chilly tonight; I'm glad that the few remaining downed tree limbs and power lines didn't seem to deter anyone from heading out.

After dinner, Mimosa and I watched Carrie* (awesome) and when Martini got home, we rifled through his bag for our favorite candies. (I especially love those Reese's peanut butter bars that have layers of something crunchy in them, but nobody seems to give those out any more.** They may not even still exist. The only time I really buy or eat candy is Halloween, so I have no idea what's out there. White chocolate Kit-Kats, who knew?)

There was at least one surprise in Martini's bag. Our fundamentalist neighbors across the street, who generally hand out juiceboxes and religious tracts, this year passed out million dollar bills posing the million-dollar question: "Will you go to heaven?" ("Here's a quick test. Have you ever told a lie, stolen anything, or used God's name in vain?" And believe me there's more, but I'll stop there. Suffice it to say, if we're just going by this document, my path to glory is looking a tad . . . sketchy.)

We all hunkered down to watch It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown together, our yearly ritual, and then, right before bed, I taught my boy how to use eye makeup remover.

In short: A perfect night.

I did rake leaves today and sawed many limbs and generally cleaned up our yard, so that was my exercise. Will it be enough to counteract 1 Reese's Peanut Butter Cup, 1 "fun size" Snickers, 1 white chocolate Kit-Kat, and 2 "fun size"*** bags of Peanut M&M'S?

More will be revealed.


—Lady C

* For the record, I do not consider Carrie a scary movie; I consider it a love story. My friend Tina W and I saw that movie probably a dozen times during our teen years (always on the big screen; this was pre-VCR, dear readers), and we sighed and cried over Carrie White's coming of age and the tender sweetness of Tommy Ross. Anything involving pig blood was, in our opinion, the B story.

My scariest movies are And Then There Were None, Halloween, The Omen, Burnt Offerings, and The Descent. The original Halloween is playing on the big screen right now and I would love to go see it, but I don't think a single one of my local pallies would be up for it. (Local pallies, correct me if I'm wrong!) I need Tina W to reappear in my life — that was another movie we saw together a dozen times. And we always sat through it twice (our modus operandi for all scary movies) because we'd be less scared on the second viewing and could get home without freaking.

** Obviously [see photo] I now know what those candy bars are. We still didn't get any. Pity.

*** Honestly? Not all that fun. I like a bag I can stick my whole hand in. Just FYI, Mars, Inc.


  1. Hi! Great site! I'm trying to find an email address to contact you on to ask if you would please consider adding a link to my website. I'd really appreciate if you could email me back.

    Thanks and have a great day!


    1. Hi Emma - sure, let me know your URL, and I'll check it out. Thanks for reading!

      —Lady C