Memories of Halloween Past

Last night I was talking to my mom about how we had to ground Emilie this week. She made a big mistake, and without going into much detail, I'll simply say we were up quite late helping her with a rather large assignment at the last minute. As a result she is grounded for the next two weeks, which means missing out on Halloween this week. As I told my Mom, I wish she understood how much I dislike being the "Mean Mom".

As I was relaying this story to Mom, I was reminded of an incident that happened when I was a kid. Mom didn't even remember it, and I wonder if my brothers do. I'm usually the only one who remembers stuff like this. So in an effort for this memory to not be lost forever I've decided to record it here. So in honor of Halloween and grounding children, I give you The Pumpkin Story.

One year on Halloween, when I was about eight or nine, my younger brothers and I were enjoying our traditional day off from school in honor of Nevada Day. Of course at that age I thought it was pretty cool that we got Halloween off from school, and had no idea what Nevada Day meant. As was our usual Halloween activity, Paul and I were in the backyard carving our pumpkins. As usual, Dad sent us out with a garbage can, some black permanent markers, and a couple well sharpened butcher knives for carving. Thomas was complaining that he wanted to carve another one.

You see a week or so before Thomas convinced Mom and Dad to let him carve his pumpkin early. in his great excited to carve his pumpkin early, he failed to realize that by Halloween, his jack o lantern would be moldy and mushy. Dad refused to get him a new one. It wasn't long before his whining and complaining turned to sulking. After a while Thomas brought his pumpkin around to the backyard and began to tear it apart, and pretty soon, Paul and I joined in too. We took the knives to it, and hacked it up. I think at some point someone produced a hammer. We went to town on that moldy pumpkin. Once it was thoroughly destroyed, we did the next obvious thing, that any unsupervised elementary school kids would do. We threw it on the roof. We had the best time laughing as that nasty hacked up pumpkin splatted on the roof. What a lovely orange mess we were making!

After a while, I have no idea how long,  Dad came out to investigate what all the thumping sounds on the roof were. I'm sure you can imagine how furious he was with us. I don't remember my dad yelling a lot,  but I'd be surprised if he didn't yell that day. We were quickly made to clean up the gooey mess on the patio, and then sent to our rooms for the rest of the afternoon. He informed us that we would not be trick or treating this year. One of my older brothers got the glamorous job of climbing up on the roof with a broom to sweep the rotten pumpkin down.

My brothers and I spent the rest of the day crying and apologizing, and saying anything we could think of to change his mind. He was immovable in his verdict.

It wasn't until Mom got home from work shortly before dinner, that the punishment changed to our favor. Dad proceeded to tell Mom about the events of the day, and the resulting punishment.  Mom proceeded to tell Dad that she had spent way too many hours making our Halloween costumes for us to not wear them.  There was no way all her hard work was going to waste.

It was with larger smiles than usual that we went Trick or Treating that night, and I think that just maybe, the candy was a little bit sweeter that year.

Now that this story has been recorded, I am left with the question. Should I show Emilie the same mercy I was given, and let her participate in Halloween this year? She was going to help out a haunted house that some friends of ours put on every year, and she is very disappointed that she no longer gets to go.
Any thoughts????

The Bike Brigade

Now that the weather has gotten more bearable here in Texas, we have been spending most evenings outside. It has been wonderful. After dinner, the kids run out and grab their bikes, or some sidewalk chalk, and we laugh and play till it's time to get ready for bed.

I couldn't resist the chance to snap some photos of Jason playing with the kids. He is finally teaching Ivy to ride her bike. She hasn't wanted to learn, because most of the time she rides her scooter. But, we have reached the point where having a 10 year old who can't ride a bike is just plain embarassing.
She's getting pretty good too. Hopefully soon she and Adelaide will be riding their bikes to school together.