Our ward trunk-or-treating spectacular this year was different for us for many reasons. First of all, we were invited to be in charge of one of the game booths, which we pulled off without incident--praise all that is good and holy--and the kids even seemed to actually enjoy it. It was right up Tor's alley, too--pumpkin golf. Yes indeed. As you can see by our professional grade photo, the object was to get a golf ball up a little ramp and into the pumpkin's mouth. They got two tries to get it in there, or 47, depending upon their skill level, and then they got to pick out a prize. It is amazing what a small child will do for a small rubber object of questionable origin or function. But nonetheless. Fun was had by all. Especially by me, as I sat myself down on a chair with the basket of prizes on my lap while my darling handled the little monsters...er....darlings with their swinging golf clubs and wildly flying golf balls. Oh, and the tracks that kept falling apart. But I was holding down both the fort and the prizes, so what could I do? Someone's got to do the heavy lifting. **sigh** That chair wasn't all that comfortable anyway, but I hate to complain.
Another reason this year was different was that we actually dressed up. Yessiree. And how. I had a hot date with SPIDER MAN, so what could possibly be better than that? They say that behind every good man is a good woman, and I would have to agree with that statement. In this particular case he would not even exist were it not for my needle and thread and a LOT of little plastic spider rings...which, I might add, had to have their 'rings' amputated in order to become just a plain spider which could sit quietly yet menacingly upon his shirt. Can I interject at this point that I do not even like spiders? At ALL. And it is no easy fete to sew them onto something without touching them. I tried that, believe me. Can't be done. And just to add insult to injury, I even hung them in my very own hair. On purpose, no less, so that my spider man would be attracted to his spider woman. I swear. The things we do for love.....
But the highlight of the night was definitely when all the little golfers rushed the parking lot to do the actual trunk-or-treating. This was the year of all years for me in that respect. I had one of my young women on one side of me, who we invited to come sit on the back of our van with us because in our charitable condition we realized that she was just standing there handing out candy bars without having a proper place to sit. Did I get away with that, or did you catch the "candy bar" part? Yup. You did. Okay, so I was handing out my candy with one hand, and dipping into her candy bar bag with the other. Bless her heart, she even tilted it in my direction to make it easier. Favorite young woman, hands down. And then on the other side of me was a darling little family who were giving out the assorted tootsie rolls which also call my name. Should I be embarrassed that I made actual children wait while I tilted the bowl towards the light in their trunk so I could pick out the orange ones? Well, come on--it was hard to see out there in the dark. What's a girl (okay, a grown woman) to do? I didn't want those little stinkers to get all the orange ones....Give me a break.
But in one respect, the night ended much the same as all other trunk-or-treating nights in that we were the first ones to burn rubber out of the parking lot. We were done. Stick a fork in us. The pumpkin golfing had taken its toll on these old fogies...The only thing that could have kept us there any longer would have been a grandchild or two. And that wasn't in the cards, so off we went....to pick the spiders out of our hair and the orange tootsie rolls out of our (MY) teeth. Ah, the joys....
