Mama-Come-Lately

This is a rant. You’ve been warned.

We live in a fairy tale of a neighborhood where everyone knows their neighbors, waves to passing cars, and lets their kids run amok like they should. There is one thing, however, that I utterly hate about living here: The Phantom.

See, every year in the two weeks leading up to Halloween, The Phantom begins to strike. You know when you’ve been hit because you’ll find a bucket or bag of Halloween crap on your porch. I don’t mind finding fun stuff on my porch as long as there’s chocolate involved — it’s the chain letter aspect I detest. Also there’s never chocolate in these things.

Your delivery comes with a flyer that you’re supposed to make two copies of, put with two NEW buckets or bags of crap, and then leave on two other porches. BUT here’s the “fun” part: you have to find houses that don’t have the “already been hit” flyer on their front door. AND you’re supposed to do this at night, AND ring the doorbell AND run away without being seen.

There are two main reasons I don’t participate in this “tradition”:

1. I refuse to perpetuate the cycle of buying more crap just because it’s “fun” and that’s what everyone does.
2. Shitty, labor-intensive, obligatory tasks like this fall on moms 99.9999% of the time.

Look, I like Halloween as much as anyone, but A) I have MORE than enough to do, and B) I don’t need more plastic/gooey/sugary crap in my house. It’s hard enough regulating all the crap that’s already here. Which ties back into A), really.

So when this year’s bucket arrived (there it is up there, looking innocent but holding only evil) and the Boo asked about it, I explained the rules and why I always break the chain. Then I said, “If you want to keep it going, that’s great, but you’re on your own once I make copies for you. I’m not buying more stuff, and I’m not going out with you.”

We’ll see what he does… I’ll just be over here in my Halloween Grinch outfit.