Happy howeloween, y’all, Geddit? HOWELoween. Because one might howel on such a night as this. Only one wouldn’t, would one? One might howl but I like the look of HOWELOWEEN better and as I am the one making up the word I pick spelling.

Last Howeloween started off suckass. I was majorly stressed out and so bitchy. People up and down the street must have heard me shouting for the thirty minutes before Dan and the kids left. I was a real treasure. When they were gone I poured myself a rum and coke. It was that much fun.

I figured last year I must have been getting my period or something but the same thing just happened. I was stressed and shouting and generally MISERABLE in the hour before Howeloween began. I now know why.

DAN. And also, THE KIDS.

Children are mental cases at the best of times but put before them the prospect of a fun night of collecting candy around the neighbourhood with friends while dressed in crazy attire and they lose their motherfucking minds, to put it bluntly. They don’t even really know why they are losing their minds. They just are. No one can stand them. Which is a fine howdoyado because the whole night is about them and all anyone wants to do is poke them in the eye.

So the mental patients are being mental and Dan is sitting around doing what Dan does when there are things that need doing: nothing. I am making sure everyone has eaten, peed, peed again because the first time they only lied and said they peed. I am finding the damned glow stick they’ve lost for the thirtieth time, I am lighting pumpkins, gathering warm boots, putting candy in bowls, answering door for trickortreaters.

That’s all before we even start getting into costumes. That is a whole ‘nother bucket o candy. Getting two kids who have done lost their minds into costumes over top of warm clothes they so do not want to have anything to do with is about as much fun as it sounds. No, less. It is less fun than it sounds. A lot less.

And just right then Dan comes out of his office and goes, do i have any gloves anywhere? and disappears into the basement to find some. And I dress two kids who are now saying that they are soooooo hottttttttt while also answering the door to the thousands of children who now litter the streets begging for teeth decay.

LITERALLY! THE CHILDREN, THEY NUMBERED IN THE THOUSANDS!

ps, I am totally going to run out of candy.

So now I am honestly sweating and saying words like FUCK and MURDER and DAN in my head and after a while I go tell him those words in the basement and he goes, why are you such a bitch?

?

Nevermind that now I have to also take a picture of the little freaks because oh hell ya that’s going to be easy with Dan now wandering around right where we are trying to take the picture like he’s a drunk blind guy who CAN’T FUCKING HEAR when I say, dude, move, i am trying to take a picture but it doesn’t matter anyway because oh look, TRICK OR TREAT GIVE ME CHOCOLATE is back at the door begging for more.

The times, they were so good.

I am still oh so very terribly sick and that is not helping. It’s making me not even want that rum and coke which last year helped put me on the road to HOWELOWEEN JOY and by the time they got back I was far less hateful and had maybe even started to like them again.

A LITTLE, BUT NOT MUCH.

Next year I am going to start drinking not seconds after the kids get home from school. I expect I will have a lot less anger then. Plus, I am drafting a Howeloween Memo to Dan re his responsibilities on said ocassion with threat of violence of directions are not strictly adhered to.

By violence I mean I will leave the house and go drinking with my single friends and he will have to deal with the kids alone. When I say kids I do refer to the MENTAL PEOPLE and if that’s not violent I don’t know what is.

Also, BOO! Happy Howeloween.

BAH HUMBUG.