I’ll wait right here for spring.
I’m a patient one, when it comes to sun.
Don’t want to miss a thing.
Halloween’s never been my favorite holiday.
Maybe because I alway eat too much chocolate.
And because it’s always seems to be raining.
Unless of course it’s snowing.
Or even worse, a blizzard!
But I thought this year I’d try really hard to like Halloween since my very sweet granddaughter was coming for an overnight.
The two of us were going on an old fashioned trolley car ride the next morning where we’d be read to by well known children’s author Nancy Carlson while wearing our costumes.
I decided to pick up dollar store orange flaming bright hair Saturday as a back up in case my granddaughter forgot her costume.
Catching up with friends later for lunch, I suddenly spotted a spark of creativity right before my eyes.
And soon I discovered I might actually be on fire with enthusiasm for this zombie loving holiday like I’d never been before.
I’d found myself a treat which translated to 95 percent off the price of detailed masquerades in all colors and styles.
Including one bejeweled in a brilliant orange to match my granddaughter’s orange hair.
Handing over my tired dollar to the clerk, I quickly handed her a fresh second bill to buy a masquerade in black just for me.
As my fashionably attired granddaughter and I took our wicker seats on the trolley Sunday, I proudly smiled beneath my stunning and ornate black masquerade.
But then I abruptly removed it.
I wanted my granddaughter, conductor, and the author to see I wasn’t hiding anything.
In fact, I wanted them to know that I may just like Halloween after all!
Tuck, the terrier, has never been a fan of Halloween.
All that door knocking makes him cranky.
And he’s never been impressed with the tricks he’s observed.
Tuck’s also noticed two legged animals receive far more treats than the four legged ones.
At least at my house.
So Tuck was oozing attitude last night when a group of Ninjas, witches, and a gingham clad Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz landed on my doorstep.
Tuck announced their arrival in a less than hospitable tone.
I scooped him up in my left arm, grabbed little candy filled bags in my right, and then opened the door.
“Sweet! You’re giving out dapper doggies instead of Kit Kat bars!” the 7-year old Dorothy blurted out to her friends.
With that proclamation, Tuck leapt from my hold and ran to hide below the coffee table.
“Well, not exactly,” I replied. “The Yorkie stays here, but how about I throw in a ‘York-ee’ Peppermint Patty with the Kit Kat bar?”
The little braided brunette smiled up at me brightly.
“Oh, and feel free to come over anytime to play with the dogs,” I added.
“Toto too?” she inquired.
I looked at Tuck.
He slowly crawled back out to sniff her hand.
Tuck proceeded to give it a lick.
And then I detected his nod of approval.
“Oh yes, Toto too!”
Content, sweet Dorothy turned and skipped happily all the way down the sidewalk with her new chocolates.
And Tuck returned back up to his old post, awaiting the next knock.
My hair is a fright.
But do you think I care?
My old clothes are dirty.
And I’ve nothing to wear.
But hey, it’s the weekend.
I’m full of good cheer.
Or should I say, ‘was’?
As I’ve just felt a tear.
My little pumpkin friend, just met her demise.
That rascal, the squirrel, thought he was being so wise.
But if he’d waited a week, he’d have earned the sweetest treat.
10 pounds of chocolate kisses, a prize he could never beat.