I dove into my Halloween décor this week. Yup, just pulled on my swimming cap, plugged my nose and belly flopped into the boxes. Came up for breath every other bin, but the kids still had to jump in to save me. I was stuck under a “moaning rock” and several duplicate copper pumpkins that I’d forgotten I had purchased…four times. Honestly!
I know that I am to blame for this mess. It’s my hearty appetite~tough to curb. I feast on things and stuff like turkey at Thanksgiving. Gobble, gobble, snarf, belch. It’s called “mass consumption”~or hording. Semantics. (shoulder shrug)
Anyway, after dragging them up from the basement a few days ago, I walked past them~back and forth~back and forth~creating a breeze with the wafting of my nightgown...for three days. I know. Nightgowns rock!
I had every intention of putting them all up the moment the children painstakingly unloaded them right smack in the middle of the path between kitchen and "rest-of-the-house," for us to trip over, twist our ankles on and stub our toes with in the middle of the night. Which I did…every stinkin’ time I went to the kitchen for a handful of candy (frequent)…but pretty soon I could go directly from a hippo-like stumble into a graceful somersault and right back up again aiming toward the candy jar~while holding a cup of rabbit poop ice, without even skipping a beat! It was kind of neat to see.
Where was I? Oh, yeah. Still haven’t put them up. Can’t. Too many. Too much. Too hard.
Soooo…would somebody please SLAP (really, really hard and fast, over and over again) my hand if I pick up/purchase ONE MORE WITCH, PUMPKIN, GOBLIN OR GARLAND~NO MATTER HOW VINTAGE, CHARMING, DESIRED OR NECESSARY TO MY HAPPINESS I LABEL THEM!
Thank you. The Lord bless you and keep you for your efforts in my behalf. You could do that when I put chocolate to my lips too, but I’ll more than likely turn feral on you~not really worth the risk.