I've been spending way too much time on the computer lately. The weather has turned cooler (if you count being in the 70's cooler) and I told myself I would get out more; spend all the time I could outside before it turned rainy and cold.
And that's what I did this morning. That is, until the children I babysit grew very tired of walking and riding in the stroller and begged to go back home. Well, one begged, the other fell asleep in the stroller. These kids nowadays, they have no stamina! No grit!
So now I'm back in front of the computer while one child sleeps (comfortably in his crib now) and the other catches up with his missed TV time. But not me, I will not give in! I have the windows open and am enjoying the lovely little breeze that is blowing through the house.
This weekend we had the strangest thing happen to us. I say strange because it is very out of the ordinary in the world that my husband and I are from. Some of you, on the other hand, may think it is very commonplace and maybe even fun. My husband says Bah! to your fun.
You see, we were Booed. That's right, Booed.
What's Booed? It's when someone rings your doorbell and runs, leaving a Halloween treat bag on your doorstep. With this treat is a little paper ghost that says, "I've been Booed," and a note telling you that you have been visited by the Halloween Phantom and that you must post your ghost on your door to ward off more visits from the Phantom and, also, you must Boo 2 other people within 48 hours.
That's right, it's a chain letter in candy and prank form.
When our doorbell rang at 8:30 at night on Saturday night, we were immediately suspect. No one rings our doorbell at night. It's just not done! I was upstairs assisting my son with his various lotions and such (see: eczema, the suffering of) and left my husband and daughter to answer the door. Well, when the doorbell rang my daughter yelled, "I'll get it!" To which my husband replied, "No! It's late! I'll get it!" And he opened the door.
There on our doorstep sat an orange plastic pumpkin with a note sticking out of the top. Upon seeing the pumpkin, and no accompanying person, my husband immediately thought it was a prank; a bad prank committed by teenagers (and we all know teenagers are the dregs of society.) (I jest.) (But I'm still scared of them.) Anyway, my husband sent my daughter back inside while he patrolled the front of the house. He didn't see anyone.
Had he seen anyone, they surely would have been sorry for ringing our doorbell. I think he would have chased them down and maybe even beaten them to a bloody pulp. For you see, ringing a doorbell and running is not a good thing where he comes from. It is a thing that means someone is sure to meet you at the door with a shotgun and you would be very lucky if they even opened the door first instead of firing a shot right through the front of the house. It's a good thing we don't have a shotgun handy, is all I'm saying.
Soooo, anyway... he finally saw that the plastic pumpkin was indeed not a bomb (or filled with, um, anything icky, but instead candy) and brought it into the house. He read the accompanying note and saw that it was meant to be a fun thing; a nice surprise. (Okay, maybe he didn't see it that way at all. Maybe he was very angry and worked up and maybe even scared my daughter so much about the whole thing that she burst into tears. And maybe I had to calm him down by telling him it was supposed to be fun and maybe I shot him evil looks over the children's heads.)
But maybe it would not be a good idea to Boo us next year. Maybe.