For the past couple of weeks, Edie has been saying things like, “Wow! They’ve got a lot of rips in their yard,” or “Where do people buy rips anyway?” Every time she would ask one of these questions, I had no idea what she was talking about, but I was always kind of zoned out and lost in thought when it came up. So I would answer with a very non-responsive reply like “I don’t know, honey.” It just didn’t register with me what she was saying until the other day when she almost came out of her car seat as we passed a very festive house with an impressive cemetery in their front yard.
“Mommy, look at all those rips!”
“What are you talking about?”
“All those rips in those people’s yard. I’ve never seen that many!” And it dawned on me what she had been saying for the past month. She was reading the tombstones. R.I.P. And on her own, she assumed that they must be called “rips”. I couldn’t correct her. It was too adorable.
I struggle with Halloween. Don’t get me wrong. I love Halloween. I can support any holiday that involves candy and costumes, but the decorations baffle me. Really, turning your yard into a cemetery? What?! I don’t understand it. I get that there’s supposed to be a spooky element to the holiday, but I just think it’s weird. We do decorate, but in our own way…like with welcoming jack-o-lanterns.
I’m not a complete Halloween Scrooge. I mean, this is the view out of my kitchen window.
I’ll even let you make mummies out of toilet paper rolls and paper towels.
But you’re not going to see any rips in this house. That’s where I draw the line.
In the spirit of the holiday, we took our annual trip to the pumpkin patch last week. It was fun until our pumpkin was stolen at the last minute. That part was kind of crummy, and then when we got home and were about to carve it several days later, we discovered that the pumpkin we chose to replace our stolen one was rotten. There were tears from the little people. Good times.
And while we are on the subject of Halloween, my Darth Vader and Princess Leia.
Roarkie told me that he wanted to be something scary for Halloween. I told him that his mommy didn’t do “scary” at Halloween. We do happy jack-o-lanterns, remember? He was disappointed. Then a couple of days later he was playing Star Wars in his room. I stuck my head in the doorway, “You know, Roark, Darth Vader is pretty scary.” And a costume was born. Edie came up with the idea of being Princess Leia. Her reasoning, “because you know, she is a princess.”
However, at the last minute Roark decided to ditch the Darth Vader mask and put on a fireman’s hat instead. I was so busy just trying to get everybody out of the house that I just rolled with it. After all, I got my picture.
And this is how I found them around 6:30 this morning…taking inventory of their loot.
Apparently people still give you candy even if your costume is just a fireman’s hat.