Frights

Everywhere I went yesterday, I came face-to-face with people dressed like witches or faces made up like clowns or clerks and food servers who looked like zombies. Everyone was having so much fun. And good for them, because I’m all for people having fun, even if it’s doing something I have had absolutely no desire to do for 50 years. And even back when I was a child, the only thing good about Halloween was the candy. The costumes were scratchy and it almost always snowed.

I promise I’m not grouchy about Halloween. Pumpkin spice pizza, yes; Halloween, no. I love when I answer my doorbell Halloween night and see a sweet little girl dressed like Elsa or a shy little boy dressed like a football player. I’m happy to give them my snickers bars because otherwise I will eat them myself.

I went to the grocery store yesterday, and most of the store workers were dressed up some way or the other. One man giving out free samples was dressed like bacon. I saw a few clowns, and a fair number of people who didn’t appear to be anything in particular besides painted in bright colors. But the cashier I happened to choose either doesn’t like Halloween or was dressed as Oscar the Grouch. Because she had a scowl on her face and was defiantly wearing her Frye’s shirt and a pair of khakis.

I don’t dress up for Halloween, she told me as I walked up to her stand, despite the fact that I didn’t ask. I haven’t dressed up since I was a kid, and I have no intention of doing it today, she added. I will turn off my lights tonight and won’t answer the doorbell.

Alrighty then.  And a happy Halloween to you. You’d better hope the naysayers are right and there really is no such thing as ghosts.

As for me, my costume was that of a skittish desert dweller. Because after seven years of bragging that we have never had a scorpion in our house, I’ll be darned if one didn’t skitter across the kitchen floor yesterday morning as I was making coffee.

Anyone who knows me will know I am lying if I say I was calm as a still lake and cool as a cucumber. Because what I did instead of calmly stepping on the little rascal was yell at the top of my lungs, “Bill, come quick and bring a shoe. There’s a scorpion in here.”  It was 5:30 a.m.

I don’t care if it’s one of God’s creatures. I wanted it dead. Bill came out bleary-eyed (and barefoot, I might add), asking me what was the matter. I calmly (right!) explained that there was a scorpion that was now hiding underneath the little corner cabinet in our kitchen. Bless Bill’s heart, because within seconds, the critter was flattened. And I was on the phone with a real estate agent. Just kidding. But when the clock struck 8, I really was on the phone with a pest control service and Jonathan-the-Scorpion-Killer will come out later this afternoon to assess the situation. And kill all the little bastards.

At the end of the day, I must remind myself that our house is in the desert and they were here first. It doesn’t help a lot.

But back to Halloween, a much nicer subject even if I don’t dress up in a costume. Around mid-day, Maggie and Lilly stopped by to welcome us to the desert. Lilly, while not yet in her actual costume, was definitely decked out in Halloween attire, and it made me smile…..

And I talked to some of the grandkids last night, and got photos from some of the others. They all appeared to have had a great time dressing up in costumes ranging from a gorilla to a fairy/unicorn/mermaid (all in one). I will post photos later this week. Oh, and I’m not telling the truth when I say I didn’t have a costume. I did….

Pinky Pie. Who knew?

We had a grand total of one trick-or-treater somewhere in the neighborhood of 7:30.

More candy for us.

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