translate

Wednesday, 31 October 2018

DIARY OF A HOOT AT HALLOWEEN BY FIONA CUMMINGS


I hope you all had a safe Halloween. I felt so bad I didn’t do much for the spooky cookie night and I felt like I let my Son down. He’s 6 feet 3 or four, is all muscles but still Mummy’s baby. When he asked yesterday, was I not even making pumpkin soup, and saying he couldn’t eat treats anymore and finally does this mean we don’t celebrate it anymore? Oh, the guilt I felt. Bad Mamma!

 

But I did have fun with the children at the door. When telling my Son, he cringed. Well, actually, when I was relating my stories to Boy Wonder, I, cringed… I just sporadically get into the mood and well, I go for it.

 

So, the doorbell rang. I opened it in my best witch’s voice. I really get into the character which would be fine my Son said, if I actually was dressed as a witch. Hahaha.

as far as I’m concerned, also as long as the children at the door know I’m putting on the voice. Well it didn’t take me long before I realised that they weren’t at all sure my voice was just how I spoke. I said it when I moved here, people from this area just don’t have the same sense of humour as good old Geordies from Newcastle.

 

But it got even more weird. The next group of children came. I opened the door. Now if you are blind, you never know if there are two children or five. As two can make as much noise as five. Because as I discovered last night, most of the kids just didn’t interact or even say a word!

 

I started to ask how many are there of you? They must have thought I was mad. As why would I ask that question, if they are all stood in front of me? Hahaha.

 

So, this group came. How many are there of you scary lot?

“Five”” They answered.

Then they started to put buckets baskets whatever in front of me. I proudly got my bucket give it a little wiggle as a witch would do just before she was about to dish out her potion, just to make sure the ingredients are all mixed up properly… and I scooped a big handful out held my hand out and as the sweets were about to fall from my hand, gentle little hands picked one. Bless them, they were tiny little chocolate pumpkins in orange foil. So, I said take more please. And then I had to slip into my normal voice which is totally different to my witches one, I had to then say I’m blind, so can’t see to put them in your basket.  At this point I’m sure the parents thought they were knocking at the door of a person with a split personality… one little boy replied.

“You’re blind?”” oh, heck I thought, what can of worms have I opened here? Yes, I replied. And then he continued.

“Coo’oo’ool.

How do you know where the sweets are?”” I replied. I’m clever… well what other answer does one give on her doorstep knowing the parents were freezing and hoping the kids would just collect and pass by to the next door so they can return home to their warm houses… he continued. Oh, yes, he didn’t stop there. It got more surreal.

“I wish I was blind; how do you get blind?””

Oh, my, God. What is wrong with kids these days?

I closed the door to this odd child and his scary group of ghouls, and thought, right. O.K. jog on…

 

The bucket/basket I held proudly at the door showing the children that I was trying to join in with their Halloween fun, I learned later on that night, much later on, like after the event, that the basket/bucket wasn’t one with a pumpkins face on, but, oh, gosh, I’m red writing this… it only had piggin chickens on… it was an Easter basket… Hahahahaha.  Well, how was I to know? It’s been a long time since Easter.

 

So, am I becoming one of those women who are a bit mad? Like an embarrassing Aunty? Or worse one of those ladies who wear a red dress with a purple hat?

 

Then my Son text me to tell me he was going to be late from work, as he quote. (Was taking Jemima home, because she had a pumpkin.)

Right, Son.

Well my first thought was he’s so kind. Second thought, what was Jemima doing at work with a pumpkin? And you wouldn’t want to know my third thought… actually or forth.

 

Well Hub came home and The Little Fella was so happy to be back. He was wild. Hub said for the past two days he was so good. The dog of course. Though I’m sure Hub was good too. And it was weird. LF kept barking. I waited with excitement to see who was coming to the door next though I was a little wary as it was now late. But no one came. There were no cars outside or we would have heard them. At one point, Hub turned the TV down so we could hear better. No voices outside. And when BW came home, he said Mum, why is LF barking? He looked out of the window, a privilege that has long passed my ability, and confirmed no one was there. I just said. Must be the Halloween ghosties…

 

© Fiona Cummings 2018