Because man was it fun. I had one errand leftover from yesterday morning. Going to the post office to mail a small package. Sounds easy enough, right? My cell phone was charging right by the front door. As I opened the door, it rang. My dad was calling to find out our Trick or Treating plans. I told him we’d head over to the nearby neighborhood in about an hour, then come by his apartment. We hung up. I actually debated in my head whether to take my phone. I was just running to mail something, so I left it. Me. I never go anywhere without my phone. Even when we go to the grocery store, I take my phone just in case anything were to happen. The post office is three minutes away with traffic though. So I decided to leave it. By now you have probably already guessed that this was a mistake. So I arrived at our post office, only to find that it had closed seven minutes before I got there. Great. So I headed to the next little tiny township about three miles down the road, hoping by some miracle that they were open until 5:00pm like the rest of the post offices in the United States. I jumped out of the car and hurried to the door, only to be met by a very pleasent woman with a key locking the door. “We’re closed!” she said cheerfully. I asked her if she knew of another post office close by. She eyed the package in my hand and was kind enough to weigh it for me and told me that I could just put five stamps on it to cover the postage. I headed back out to my car, as they had a handwritten sign stating that their stamp dispensing machine had be “closed” for reasons unlisted. Mrs. Cheerful had told me I could obtain stamps at the grocery store next door. So I jumped in the car and turned the key, and it didn’t quite fire up. I tried again, and this time, I got nothing. Not a sound, the engine didn’t even turn over. Craptastic. I have no phone. We’re supposed to go trick or treating in 30 minutes. I had left dear husband and son out in the yard. The only thing playing in my favor was that my neurotic self insisted that we purchase a different carseat in September because I didn’t trust our Eddie Bauer one. So we had an extra carseat sitting in the house. I knocked on the post office window yet again and told her that my car wouldn’t start and I didn’t have my phone. She brought me their cordless and I tried over and over to call Scott. He, of course, was in the yard. After trying for five minutes or so, I left him a long message telling him where I was and instructing him to empty out the old storage building Honda, take the weighted tags off of the 2003 Chevy work van that doesn’t even belong to us, place them on the Honda, put the carseat in and come get me. By the time he finally arrived, it was 6:00pm. I burst into tears over the entire situation. The carseat was sloppy loose. Like sliding across the backseat in turns kind of loose, which freaked me out even more. So we took the tags off the Explorer and put them on the Honda, thinking it at least wouldn’t look like we had stolen tags and/or a van from Scott’s boss if we were stopped. I mean, at least the names would match now, that’s gotta count for something right? You think a police officer make overlook the fact that the tags are on the wrong vehicle which is 10 months out of inspection, and has no insurance? Luckily we didn’t have to find out. So we came home, got Caleb dressed and went illegally trick-or-treating…we drove to a nearby neighborhood.

We made the best of our somewhat less than pleasant chain of events. Caleb received lots of compliments, and came home with a reasonable amount of loot for a two year old. He held his bag open, said trick or treat and thank you, and was fairly good about holding our hand. A few houses had creepy music playing, which freaked him out a bit, but I think he did very well. He saw a little boy dressed as Mickey Mouse, and wanted to follow him everywhere. (He loves Mickey Mouse Clubhouse) We went to one house where a lady was handing out candy and some type of little bracelets. She had them in separate baskets, and she bent down to let him choose. Caleb picked up a piece of candy and put it in his bag. She said “Here you go sweetie, would you like a bracelet also?” He took it, looked at it and threw it back in the basket and got another Reeses!!! Is that my child or what??! I have trained him well! So we walked through the neighborhood and then put him in the stroller for a quicker return trip to the car. It was fun. And by the time we got home, I had almost forgotten about the fact that I was squished into a highly illegal car, and Old Blue was sitting at the post office with a $100+ dollar price tag on her head. We’re assuming it is the starter, but she’s waiting until the weekend to be worked on. We did bring ‘er home last night though. Scott’s boss was kind enough to put his Wednesday night date on hold to come tow our car home.

My little chicken with Airwalk tennis shoes:

“Bauck Bauck”

Back off Momma Hen, this is my loot.

I’m not fat. I’m fluffy!

Comments

One Response to “let’s talk halloween”

    Lauren
    November 1st, 2007 7:45 pm

    ROTFLMAO!!! I’m so sorry that happened you but I loved hearing the story because it sounds like my life!!!! Oh man ***wiping the tears away*! And what an adorable chicken!!! We had a pirate with Elmo shoes lol!!

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