Hollow Heads

It is mocking me. It is on my back porch rotting away and it never even had a name or a face. We just gutted the insides and cooked them for our pleasure. A little salt makes them quite tasty.

Sure we intended to use the whole thing. We didn’t want to be wasteful of the sunlight and nutrients and sacrifice that was made. The knife was wet from sawing at the top of the head and all that was needed was a few more cuts.

We promised to bring it to life with a knife. It would be our Monster and we were the family of Frankensteins. If only we had the time and the patience. Or Teri Garr from Young Frankenstein… Crap I am off track. Focus. Focus. Oh yeah, if only we had the time or the patience.

“In a minute” gave way to “bath time”.

Then “bedtime” pushed the face-e-otomy to “tomorrow”.

We forgot that tomorrow was mommy and daddy date night and the next day was dance and a dinner. Two days later and we pulled off the top of his severed head.

Inside looked like the slimy mid-face of my youngest child. Booger-y and something you don’t really want to mess with.

He ended up on the back porch. A metaphor for my Halloween intentions.

Rest in Peace

Dead like the flowers that needed to go in the garden.

Dead like the flowers that needed to go in the garden.

While the faceless Jack judges me through the window I see the perfect parents on Facebook. They have a pumpkin with some extravagant MC Escher inspired landscape where the pumpkin thickness is shaved precisely to cast different light intensity. A brilliant Pinterest work of art. Thanks a lot guys.

I try not to have a heart attack watching Supermom cut the top off the pumpkin. She is using a foot long knife, cutting towards herself, and pumpkin is hard to cut until suddenly it isn’t. After about forty five seconds of saying “hey” or “you might wanna”, she glares and me and holds out the knife and thereby her opinion. No need it two of us getting cut so I shut my mouth.

At this point the children are uncomfortable and don’t want to watch us cut two triangles and a square, much less witness a stabbing.

To all you parents who failed at anything close to cool with the pumpkin this year. This one is for you. You’re welcome.

Underdaddy to the Rescue.

RockTober is Here!

As I look outside at the [partly cloudy + thunderstorms in the distance] view, I breathe in through my ragweed inflamed nostrils and my clammy forehead sweat reminds me to change the AC to the dual setting. Fall is here along with allergies and bi-polar weather. Bees somehow survive the cold nights and fly around pissed off in the warm afternoons. Fall also means that I can look forward to my favorite college football team getting disappointed and Halloween!

I can totally place my children in this mix.

I can totally place my children in these pumpkin personalities.

Halloween is the sacred holiday of costumes and candy. We (Supermom) spend(s) a month making costumes so we can take the kids to play in traffic while we yell at them to “Hold Hands” and “Stay Close” for a good three hours. We then take all the awesome candy that they have collected and put it in a big bowl in the kitchen. The children won’t be allowed to eat the candy and we will pilfer it for a month or two before throwing it out because the chocolate tastes like other things – mainly peppermints or bubblegum.
We try to let the children enjoy the spoils of war but rarely is Halloween on a weekend night so by the time we get home, letting the kids get jacked up on Reese’s and Sweet Tarts is a bad idea. Each day afterwards they ask for their candy and we give them a few pieces but not much because it is never actually convenient to have kids jacked up on sugar highs. Have you seen a three year old who just did three pixie sticks? It’s the last scene of Scar Face done half-naked in a diaper. “I’m Invincible!!!!”

Sometimes we actually feel guilty about building up the excitement for the holiday and then being prudish with the candy. A few times the children have gotten the community candy bucket through persuasion or deception and they blow through Tootsie Rolls like Jello-Shots at a college party. Sometimes there are a similar set of side effects; Elation, Lowered Inhibition, Nausea, Vomitting, Depression, Crying, Breaking Things That Don’t Belong To You, Disappointing Looks the Next Day… Sorry, I got off-track. Flashback.

More to my point in this October rambling, I think the holiday of Halloween is under attack. Costumes are commercialized and Trick-Or-Treating, much like Christmas lights, has declined in the older neighborhoods and it is hard to find places where it is even worth getting out of the car. Streets that used to be hot spots are now a row of dark porches and unlit carports. Competition from churches and retail malls may put an end to the grass-roots door to door Halloween experience. Our overprotective society is moving towards Trunk-Or-Treats and Shop-Or-Treat events. If we can’t let our kids dress in disguises, run around active roadways, and take candy from strangers at night I just don’t know if I want to live here anymore.

Not that I’m into scary things as seen in the Manginity post but I do love Reese’s minis. Peanut butter chocolate cups are reason enough for any holiday you want to imagine. Let’s burn old tennis shoes on June first and then eat Reese’s minis. We can call it the Nike-a-ween holiday, I’m all in. Until America adopts it and Wal-Mart starts selling used shoes cheaper than I can buy them at Goodwill. Then it will just be another good thing ruined.

Holidays are out of control and Halloween is the first one I can rant about. Over the next 24 days I will take a few topics related to Halloween and break them up for blog reading enjoyment. Feel free to send me some suggestions. My personal thoughts are currently working on Costumes, Halloweens of Days Gone By, The Art of Trick-Or-Treating and an epic finale of our 2014 Halloween Experience (if my nerves allow one).

For fans of any holidays in general, this series is for you. Check out the Follow by Email or Like the Facebook page to get on the notice list. As always, sharing is caring.

Underdaddy to the rescue.