Friday, October 31, 2003
Halloween Highlights -- The daughter woke up with her first-ever shiner -- the result of her falling onto an elbow during a Powder Puff practice last evening. Her right eye is a gothic purple-and-black stain; she looks like Tammy Baker caught outside in a rainstorm. "Wow," I say, "you could go to your Halloween party tonight as Tanya Harding!" (daughter frowns) "OK, how about you do up the other eye and go as a heroine addict?" (daughter scowls). We go in later to see the principal to discuss her absences this semester. "Wow," says the principal with a scratchy Dorchester accent, "you look like crap!" (daughter laughs!).
The son goes to a Halloween party tonight which touts a guest list of four thousand college students. I guess it is the biggest D.C. bash of the year and the son, who will be dressed up as Italian Mafioso, is most excited. And true to his donned character, he somehow scored four V.I.P. tickets that get him and his friends straight to a V.I.P. table -- two drinks apiece included. The rest of the hoard must stand in a five-block-long line waiting to get in. It all sounds gruesome to me but then that's just me. I might add that it also scares me to think of 4,000 masked grown-ups assembled at one tightly-packed target within the heart of the nation's capitol...
The sign outside of the convenience store I passed today on my way to work read, "Please take off your mask before entering the store. Thank you. The management."
Hubby, daughter, and I have been fighting since yesterday evening about who has to go out and buy a couple of bags of candy in the event we get some trick-or-treaters tonight. Hubby tried to evoke his VP stature -- a stature I snuffed out quickly with a reminder of who the braniac was who sent the hammer sailing down the stairs to gouge a hole in the wood floor. VP of Stupidity would be more like it. I predict we will all give in at the end and have nine bags of crappy candy to show for it. I hate Halloween.
The son goes to a Halloween party tonight which touts a guest list of four thousand college students. I guess it is the biggest D.C. bash of the year and the son, who will be dressed up as Italian Mafioso, is most excited. And true to his donned character, he somehow scored four V.I.P. tickets that get him and his friends straight to a V.I.P. table -- two drinks apiece included. The rest of the hoard must stand in a five-block-long line waiting to get in. It all sounds gruesome to me but then that's just me. I might add that it also scares me to think of 4,000 masked grown-ups assembled at one tightly-packed target within the heart of the nation's capitol...
The sign outside of the convenience store I passed today on my way to work read, "Please take off your mask before entering the store. Thank you. The management."
Hubby, daughter, and I have been fighting since yesterday evening about who has to go out and buy a couple of bags of candy in the event we get some trick-or-treaters tonight. Hubby tried to evoke his VP stature -- a stature I snuffed out quickly with a reminder of who the braniac was who sent the hammer sailing down the stairs to gouge a hole in the wood floor. VP of Stupidity would be more like it. I predict we will all give in at the end and have nine bags of crappy candy to show for it. I hate Halloween.
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