2 November 2006
In a dark, dark house on a dark, dark street
We don’t go out trick or treating. We lie in wait for them to come to us. This year we finally managed to grow a (small, slightly poorly) pumpkin on the allotment, so we carved it and sat outside with it on the doorstep. Ds dressed in his skeleton outfit with me looking like a scary whale (really, I’m huge) and a big bowl of sweets.
Every time anyone walked down our street – whether or not they were dressed as the Hulk or a pumpkin, ds accosted them and forced them to take a handful of eclairs. “Here you go”, he said, “it’s Hallowe’en night, just tonight!” I don’t think anyone refused.
One guy walking back from the station got this treatment “oooh, you look great!” said ds enthusiastically “just like Jack Nightmare-before-Christmas!” “Thanks, mate”, he replied, “This is just my work suit.” He took a mini Crunchie.
Prefer to be saving daylight or your sanity?
I guess staying up a bit late that night has helped get ds into the new daylight saving hours (surely there’s another way of getting through winters? People who set up these things sure don’t have kids!). On Monday we were all up at 5.30am, Tuesday 6am and this morning he slept until 6.45am and I was up before him – I actually can’t remember the last time that happened.
Long may it continue…
Is that an eyeball up your nose?
Weirdly, ds and his dad did have a bit of a spooky experience that day, as they went to the Mile End Climbing wall after school. Great place to go with energetic young kids, by the way, you’re allowed to get straight in and go bouldering with them (just using the hand and foot grips) but need some special training before you can use the ropes. It’s under £5 each too, and ds spent two whole hours calmly climbing up and down the walls – not bad for a kid I constantly suspect of at least bordering on hyperactivity.
Once they were outside, ds and his dad were sitting having a peanut butter sandwich when ds started coughing and, after a bit of back-slapping, didn’t seem surprised when a little plastic eyeball came out of his mouth, covered in snot and blood.
“What’s that?” asked his dad.
"An eyeball, from the thank you cards we were making” ds replied.
How did it get there?”
"Erm, well I put it up my nose this morning and it got stuck there. And now it’s come out of my mouth!”
When they told me the story, I remembered how ds had been howling about having banged his nose that morning, saying he had to go to the doctors, but just gave it a kiss, as I hadn’t been able to see anything wrong.
There wasn’t any point in telling him off – he knew it was a silly thing to do. In fact when I went to tell his grandma the story on the phone, ds got very cross and told me not to tell anyone the story – hopefully bodes well for him not doing it again, eh?