How Halloweenie do we get?

We went off to the movie store Friday night, because nothing is on tv on Friday nights, Sarah was away so the volume of the house had gone down by two-thirds and, well, WHY NOT? I was instructed by Emma to pick her out a Dora movie, preferably one she hadn’t seen.

A near impossible task, I might add.

And there were a lot of Halloween movies already checked out, including Dora’s Halloween. Go figure! We had to settle for the Pirate Adventure. Meaghan got Harry Potter 2 & 3, also subtitled as “I can’t remember what order they come in AT ALL” and I let the clerks know I still love them even though I see them about once a month or so.

My guy Mark wistfully commented on how our house must get all decorated at this time of year – certainly we must go all out. Alas, I had to break it to him we did not. Not because I have huge problems with the commercialization of halloween, the mass consumption of goods and the keeping up with what the neighbours did to their house, nor is it the fact I am mired in BIRTHDAYS at the same time, or the fact I have a horrible memory and still have no idea where I put what little decorations we do have, no.

It’s just I am inherently lazy. That, and if I do make the effort, I really Make An Effort. So much so, I channel my Nanny Daly, the neat freak one, the one who spends THREE DAYS arranging the ornaments on her Christmas tree so they are each equidistant from one another and when we visit we are allowed to look at it from the doorway and the edge of freshly-vacuumed carpet where we must never walk unless we have spotless white socks. So for me, Christmas is the all-out occasion and all I can handle for the year.

But I digress. If I decorate, the older children barely glance at them. Might be the candy coma they are in, who knows? Emma was happy enough making a family of construction paper pumpkins and sticking them to a few windows.

So instead of burdening Mark and the other clerks with that image, letting them all know how crazy I could get given half a chance, I deflected to conversation.

“So what are you going out as?” Mark inquired as he rung up my movies.

My jaw dropped. “You mean you can’t tell?” He looked confused and I rolled my eyes at the female clerks as I patiently explained, “I’m a Super Model. DUH.”

“Oh, naturally!”
“Of course!”
“I could tell right away!”

All the female clerks chimed in they knew exactly what I was talking about, firmly nodding their heads in unison. Mark backed away from me slowly. Meaghan muttered something about it being time for my medication. Those people need to get out more.

Also – a random factoid that I wanted to mention but didn’t fit in the storyline – one year we gave out birthday cake for treats.
There were only a few kids (I think three) who were immediate neighbours that didn’t make it to the birthday party.

We don’t decorate — I am a Halloween scrooge, I have to admit, and if it weren’t for the kids I wouldn’t do anything at all. I would be happy to treat it as just another day. I did manage to get the kids’ costumes together with time to spare (two jedi knights, and a princess/ballerina/fairy culled off of the playroom costume rack and which has nothing to do with the costume I slaved over at my sewing machine) but we didn’t get pumpkins or even treats. Yet! I have to remember to get candy today, or the neighbor kids will never speak to me again.