The evening before Halloween, Doug attempted to stop a fight between one neighbor’s cat and another neighbor’s dog. It ended tragically for both animals. Tommy and I cried ourselves to sleep. I couldn’t bring myself to tell the two youngest children who didn’t witness the horror.
Halloween morning, I awoke with a migraine. The kind of migraine that feels like someone stabbed you in the eye with a dagger and you just know that your own stress has caused it. By lunchtime, the elementary school nurse had called to tell me my youngest child was pukey. He valiantly fought against the loss of trick or treating. “I won’t let myself throw up again.” Fifteen minutes later, he proved himself wrong.
After a quick picture so that the costume could get five minutes of use, the sad child and I stayed home for the ONE trick or treater who came to our door. We are surrounded by much wealthier neighborhoods with perfectly landscaped properties and street lights. I can’t blame parents for avoiding our heavily wooded neighborhood of tiny houses. It still makes me sad.
The middle school child found out about the neighbor’s cat when someone else in the neighborhood casually mentioned it. She came home sobbing. An hour after tucking her in bed for the night, she is STILL crying.
I suggested that next Halloween, we make sure the oldest children spent their evening visiting haunted houses. Doug verbally stabbed me in the heart by reminding me that I was talking about a teen and his best friend who would be away at college next Halloween.
The elementary teacher who sent a sick child home on Halloween, knowing that he would miss out on trick or treating, sent home a pack of worksheets for homework.
2013 – The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Halloween