The dogs are with me.
The house is dark.
I'm busy being a "rotten Halloween Apple".
Now don't go thinking that I'm a big time jack 'o lantern cheap ass. I'm not. I love Halloween. I'm the kind of person that puts the display in the yard, the Halloween lights go up, the move-able pumpkins and witches, all the window coverings. I buy a ton of candy to hand out to the 8 or so kids that will stop by and scream "Trick Or Treat" at my door. Sometimes I don't even let them get the begging call out as I'm so excited to see the little ones all costumed up in their princess or dracula outfits.
Back when #1 and #2 were younger, I would make their costumes. A pumpkin, clown, puppy dog...Poor #2, he always got the hand me downs as #1 was always privy to the newest creation. Then came the trips to VV Boutique to gather more complex items that were required as they got older. Try and find a size 12 pair of stillettos because #1 absolutely has to go out dressed like a "hot chick". He was pretty cute. But hot? Not so much.
But my most favourite costume by far was the Skunk costume. It was great. Made out of that long hair stuff that some people use for an area rug carpet thingy, you know, what's it called? Anyway, that stuff is a tough thing to sew, particularly with a sewing machine that was handed down to me, I swear, from one of my great grandmother's. But sew it I did.
The real kicker to the costume, and the thing that both the boys giggled hysterically about, was that SG would take a piece of cloth and soak it in this skunk smelling stuff that he uses to cover his tracks when he's out in the bush, doing his best to not be choosy and "wait for the big one", and get us some venison. We would then tie this cloth to the underside of the skunk tail and off they would go, begging for candy and stinking to high heaven.
It was great. People would comment on how the cute little skunk smelled like a big ugly skunk ... and the boys would laugh and turn around and lift the tail as they scooted away.
But now, here's the thing. #1 has a job and is working tonight. I asked him the other day if they were dressing up at work and he said no. Good, one less thing for me to do. Turns out that yes, indeed, costumes were mandatory. Desperate phone call to the cell on the way home requesting that I please please PULEEAAASE bring him his tank top and shorts, they needed to be in costume tonight. "Uhhmmm, okay, what are you dressing up as" I asked and was told that he and his "roman candle fireball really mom it landed in my shoe" buddy were going as beach volleyball players.
Yeah. Okay. That's really dressing up now isn't it? But I relaxed and said to myself that #2 still had a couple years in him, it'll be okay. It can still be fun, despite the fact that #2 had me running all over town trying to find a pair of those boots that guys used to wear that had the 4" solid block platform and 5" solid block heel and some bell bottoms and oh, don't forget, the afro wig. "And what, pre tell are you dressing up as" I asked. A hippie was the reply. Which was good. I liked that. It was fun scouring all the used clothing stores to find really cool stuff that was "hippie". I didn't find the afro wig, so he ended up with dreadlocks instead. A Rastafarian hippie. I liked it. So did he.
What I didn't like was when I was driving him to the school dance last night how it was suggested that the only thing missing from his "really cool" costume was the fact that he didn't have a big "doobie" in his hand.
THAT'S!!! when it stopped being fun!!!
And that's why I'm in the basement, with the dogs, hiding, in the dark with only the glow of the monitor to guide me. Oh, that and the light in the bar fridge! The image of all those cute little ones, almost whispering their "Trick or Treat" and they're then yelled out "THANK YOU!!!!" as they leave my front door, well, it's just too much to bear. I can see the future for those little ones....
He said he needed a "doobie"....
No comments:
Post a Comment