In keeping with my rather slack approach to holidays and other festive events, here is my Halloween blog.
At approximately 5:30 Halloween night, I realized that I’d forgotten to lay in any supplies. We had no candy on hand whatsoever. No mini chocolate bars, no peanut butter cups. Not even a breath mint. If anyone came to the door, I was going to have to give them a can of mushroom soup or maybe that tin of mysterious Mexican peppers that appeared in the pantry one day, apparently having crossed the border by itself before making its way to our house.
I didn’t forget on purpose, but Halloween, which used to be one of my favourite holidays, has joined the ranks of the holidays I resent.
How can I dislike a holiday that involves cute kids staggering around the streets wearing wings and tails, completely jacked up on sugar and excitement? (I admit, I love that part.)
The problem is firecrackers. More specifically, the problem is Frank’s phobia about firecrackers. He’s developed a sensitivity to loud noises and is now a cringing, trembling mess for the entire month of October.
The week before Halloween a firecracker went off early in the day and Frank bolted. We got a call from a Mrs. Bugsby, who found our wayward dog on the porch of her trailer. In the mobile home park where she lives. Many miles from where the firecracker went off. Thanks to firecrackers, our dog has to be on house arrest (a.k.a his leash) for the entire month. Drat.
I’m thinking of fitting Frank with some big-ass headphones, similar to the pair that my friend Abbie bought to go with her IPOD. Then I could take him trick-or-treating. I’d tell people he was dressed as “dialed in dog” and we would only go to dark houses, like ours. And when the owners open up and say they don’t have anything for us, I’ll just volunteer to take any extra cans of mushroom soup off their hands.
I’ll have to get down to Future Shop and ask them about it. In the meantime, Mr. Bugsby, which is what we now call Frank, is looking forward to Christmas. He’s considering what element of that holiday he should get phobic about. Maybe the sound of wrapping paper. Or the sight of Christmas lights. I’ll keep you posted.