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Monday, October 31, 2011


Halloween was one of my favorite holidays growing up, and not for the candy—well, it stopped being about the candy once I became a teenager, anyway. I loved the pranks, the thrill of doing stuff you're not supposed to do, without any real fear of jail-time (I bent rules. I didn't tend to break them).

Of course, there was that one year when my friends and I broke into the cadaver lab at the university. We had nothing but a bag of apples and a hatchet but we still managed to . . . wait, maybe that’s not a story I should share—I better check the statutes of limitations on something first ;).

My point is, now the holiday stresses me out and I feel old.

See, I used to egg cars, toilet-paper houses, have roman-candle wars in the cemetery. I even blew up a pumpkin or two. My friends and I would use the internet to find idea's for Halloween-hooliganising (is that a word??) which usually ended with regrettable, consequences (to this day I have a scar on my finger from an failed attempt at making smoke-bombs).

Now, things are different. It’s my car that gets egged, I’m cleaning up the toilet paper and bits of pumpkin in the morning, and one of those punks from down the street shot a Roman Candle at me last year! Plus, now I feel too responsible to arm myself, so I’m left shoving the elderly out of my way and scrambling for cover every-time the 31st rolls around.

Point goes to you, Karma, you sneaky little ....


Karen I said...

didn't your mom ever say 'I hope you get a child just like you!'
hate it when that happens!

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