It appears to have fallen upon my shoulder to create activities for the crumb snatchers that will keep them from the pantry for several hours at a time. Chief Money Maker mandated my new role after nearly having a heart attack when he inadvertently saw the grocery receipt from my last shopping expedition. Don’t worry. I have made sure to hide the receipts for the Halloween expenditures to protect his health.
I am a firm believer in the old adage that a family that crafts together makes a huge mess that I get to clean up. So this year, in a time-honored tradition, the crumb snatchers will take perfectly good pumpkins, which have never harmed anyone mind you, and totally massacre them. I purchased four of these healthy fruits—or are pumpkins a vegetable—that this afternoon will have their guts removed, and their tender little gourd surfaces mutilated to turn them into creations intended to frighten small children. This project should protect the pantry for at least two hours.
Tonight night we will take the crumb snatchers to a haunted house because our grocery bill wasn’t quite scary enough. Here we will voluntarily enter a dark, possibly condemned, building and subject ourselves to “jell-o blood”, “spaghetti brains”, and “olive eyeballs” all in the Halloween spirit. Maybe I can garner some leftovers and serve it up for dinner, recouping some of the admission costs.
Tomorrow night, we can wander around in a perfectly good field of corn that was completely hacked with a design that can only be deciphered from a small commuter plane flown overhead. If we are really lucky, we can make our way to the exit before the crumb snatchers and, depending on whether we found parking within the county, be gone for hours before they notice. Or, we can make it a race and give the crumb snatchers a “head start” while Chief Money Maker and I head to Starbucks for a Pumpkin Spice Latte. We can then return several hours later, cover our clothes in dust and corn silk, hang out at the exit and when they emerge shout, “Ha ha you lost!” Fun times!
I can also consume several more hours of time by holding a séance in the attic to call up our “Attic Ghost.” This ghost announced his presence three years ago when he crashed through the ceiling in our bedroom and left a gaping hole and scattered insulation throughout our house. It appeared that the ghost, who apparently took on the form of G-Bear, decided he needed a Halloween costume that was stored in our attic. Obviously a ghost can’t go out on Halloween dressed as a ghost. That would just be too obvious.
So this ghost entered our attic and rummaged for a costume, slipped on one of the rafters, and burst through the ceiling of our bedroom. He then, from what we could gather, caught himself on the rafters with his little ghostly arms, and managed to pull himself back up through the wreckage. Then the ghost, not wanting to be discovered, left a trail of insulation from G-Bear’s room, down the stairs, and into our bedroom sufficiently leaving evidence that pinned the accident on G-Bear. We will hold the séance in an attempt to call up the “Attic Ghost” so he can properly apologize to G-Bear. Hopefully he won’t be at a neighbor’s house rummaging for a Justin Bieber costume.
Finally, we can decorate the yard with five tombstones, a crime scene, and ghouls. We may receive a call or two from the local police requesting that we confirm none of the crumb snatchers are buried beneath the tombstones, but we’ll plead the fifth.
After we observe all these fine Halloween traditions, I will begin my annual pilgrimage to the grocery store to forage for Thanksgiving food…right after I clean up the pumpkin guts.
© 2011 CThacker