Do you know what’s more annoying than a man driving a motorcycle installed with a very loud sound system on a busy street? When said man is listening to talk radio.
It’s almost that time of the year when ordinary folks pretend they’re something they’re not. And when ordinary girls are allowed a solid day and night of socially accepted slutdom. Which I don’t agree with. I know shocking right? If you don’t have the guts to dress like a stiletto wearing sexed up surgeon on a typical workday then you don’t deserve the opportunity to frolic in your fishnets on the 31st of Octobre.
I’ll tell you who does deserve the opportunity to dress up, my baby boy Jack. He’s paraded in various costumes consistently for the past 6 years. His alter egos have entailed being a cowboy, a bumble bee, yoda, a football player, a pirate and this year he will be receiving tricks and treats as a pumpkin. Jack comes from a long line of circus performers. I’m not joking. His family line is linked to circus acts performed all over the country. I thought about sharing Jack’s genetic gifts with generous ticket holding clientele but then I watched a 4 hour “Toddlers in Tiaras” marathon and decided I could never be a pageant mom. Actually I could but that’s beside the point. I’m happy enough sharing Jack’s secret talents with a few close friends and family without feeling guilty that I haven’t shunned Jack of a substantial childhood.
I read an article the other day that proposed the question, “how old is too old to trick or treat?” My answer is if you can read the article then you’re too old. But that doesn’t mean you can’t dress your dog in a complimentary costume, take him trick or treating and eat all of his candy. The same theory stands if you have children. And don’t pretend like I’m not right.
While we’re on the subject I’d like to debunk the familiar catchphrase, ‘trick or treat.’ There has not been one time in my long standing participation of Halloween festivities that I would have ever preferred receiving a trick over a treat. Does anybody ring the doorbell of a stranger’s home anticipating them to light a flaming bag of dog poop at your feet? Or pull a chair out from under you when you go to sit down? I think not. I deal with enough tricks during my daily misgivings so when I have the opportunity to receive treats willy nilly I’m going to grab them with both hands and feet. The next time I, I mean Jack rings a door bell with his pillow case sized satchel in hand I’m going to insist he demands "treats hold the tricks please."
My husband and I were married no more than 3 months before being taken hostage to an illness beyond our control. This blog is about our journey and our plan to prevail. We are the newlywed death fighters.