Trick or Treat

Halloween. A dentist's dream day. A behavioral nightmare for parents that starts Halloween evening and runs until the candy is gone. Especially if you have kids like ours, kids that respond to sugar like crack-addicts respond to glass pipes. The phrase "ape-poo batty" about covers it.

So, we do Halloween differently. For the Nowells, Halloween is about the costume and little else. And because we can't find an enclave of homes that give out nothing but good, old-fashioned cashola, Halloween isn't about springing from house to house, knocking on doors.

The kids are OK with this because we've created a new tradition, resting on video games, at places like Chuck E Cheese and Adventure Landing. I understand very few people haunt* these locales on the actual holiday, so we should have plenty of fun without plenty o' lines.

So, go enjoy All Hallows Eve in whatever traditional or non-traditional way your family sees fit.

And, while you are at it, enjoy this joke, courtesy of Dad Huber:

A man goes into the hospital for surgery and ends up with "bathroom issues" during his recovery. No matter how much it feels like he has to go, trips to the bathroom yield nothing.

Tired of fruitless trip to the bathroom, the next time he feels the urge, he decides to stay in his bed. Unfortunately, he has diarrhea all over the sheets.

Embarrased, he wads up the dirty sheets and throws them out the window.

Passing by, a drunk is hit on the head with the sheets. Furiously waving his arms to get them off, he catches the attention of a police officer.

The police officer asks "What are you doing?"

The drunk says "I don't know. But I think I just beat the crap out of a ghost!"

:)


*Couldn't resist. My fingers were just itching to do this.

No, thank you. NO, thank you. NO, THANK YOU.

In the spirit of Halloween: Did you hear the one about a skeleton who walked into a bar and ordered a drink and a mop?

By far, one of my favorite jokey, non-jokes. Most people don't get it the first time they hear it, so you get to watch the lines in their forehead wrinkle, their eyebrows knit together and the gears in their brain grind. THEN they go "OH." Very rarely does anybody laugh. They just acknowledge that they GET IT.

But, do they really?

I, for one, know I fain understanding sometimes just to get out of a situation. Like the one at Tom Thumb the other night.

I was purchasing a 36-pack of water bottles. I had lifted the bottles off the bottom shelf and carried them to the conveyor belt myself. It wasn't a back-breaking experience and, actually, I needed to work out my arms, so I was glad to carry them*.

Once I got to the head of the line, the kind checker asked if I wanted a cart for the bottles. "No, thank you" was my response.

Then the inquisition began.

"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Thank you."

Enter our handy bagger. Who happened to be deaf, God bless her. She pointed to the cart area and said something I couldn't understand. I smiled, doing my best "I totally get what you just said" look.

It was clear she thought I needed a cart, too. And she wasn't giving up easily.

Me, hoping I was about to respond to the unitelligble statement correctly: "No. Thank you."
Bagger: "Need cart."
Me, waving my arms and hands like I was a line judge at the Super Bowl: "No. That's OK."

Then the bagger stopped an elderly gentleman. A co-worker. "Cart", she commanded. And pointed at me.

I'm sure the confluence of wrinkles on my forehead could have held pennies in it. I just couldn't believe how insistent these people were. What did I look like, a 90-year-old with arthritis and no muscle tone**?

At this point, the gracious thing would have been to accept the cart. But, by golly, it had became a matter of principle. I just wasn't in the mood to deal with GREAT CUSTOMER SERVICE and these people needed to back the heck up!

By this time, my handy credit card had posted the $4.99 charge and mutiny was about to start in the line behind me. Who could blame the other line-dwellers? Here I was with one freakin' item and you'd think I was buying an elephant and leaving without peanuts. Or a big shovel.

Deaf bagger person continued to insist I needed a cart as the checker handed me my receipt. I reached to pick up the water bottles, saw the 80-year-old savior, with MY cart jetisoning toward the checkout stand. I did my best peripheral blindness imitation and passed by him.

After I got to the car, I couldn't help but think about how this would have panned out at Walmart. I would have picked up the bottles, drug them to the checkout stand, the checker would have slung them up on the merry-go-round-for-plastic-bags and, if I was lucky, said "Have a nice day." Or grunted goodbye, depending on the hour and the checker.

And, you know the strange thing? I prefer the Walmart experience. Because I really hate to try to reason with strangers or explain my point-of-view to people I don't know. That's hard enough with people I know intimately.

So, Tom Thumb. Thanks for the water. Best of luck in the grocery wars. When I can't find something I need at Walmart, I'll be back.

But I damn sure won't be buying anything heavy. Or bulky.

Unless I'm in the mood to accept that forsaken cart.




*Over the Summer I attempted to pull myself out of the pool by the arms, without assistance from the legs. I found myself flopping back into the pool like an epileptic fish. Let's just say, when you are laughing at your own lack of strength, it's not a good idea to try this stunt a second time. Best just to use the ladder.

**Don't answer that.

Tutankhamun

A smallish voice calls from the backseat of the car "Mommy? What are you going to be for Halloween?"

"I think I'll just go as a Mommy."

A logical voice responds "You'll need toilet paper."

A perplexed voice answers "Why would I need toilet paper?"

I hear this response "Because mommies have lots of toilet paper."

I'm still WAY out of touch with what he is talking about, so I ask "What do we do with the toilet paper?", hoping to clarify the situation.

The answer made perfect sense "You know. They wrap it all around their bodies and tape it."

OH. MUMMIES. You've gotta love the English language, the blessed speak that allows the change of one vowel to completely screw up communication.

No, dear, I won't be wrapping my body in Charmin on Saturday. I'll be a MOMMY for Halloween. Not King Tut.