Halloween '08

Asher went trick-or-treating last night. This is significant because he has not been a willing Halloween participant until this year at the age of 5. When he was 1, he wore a Thomas the Tank Engine costume for about an hour because he didn’t know enough to protest and because it was not an invasive outfit. At 2, we tried to put him in a lion costume, and he screamed until we took it off. I managed to take a quick picture of him before scarring him permanently...I hope. The following Halloween, Asher was 3 and Levi had been born 2 weeks prior. I have no idea what happened that year, but I’m guessing not much. At 4, Asher insisted that he wanted to be James (another Thomas the Tank Engine character). He tried the costume on at home and he enjoyed looking at himself in the mirror. We explained that if he wanted to get treats, we had to go door to door and say, “Trick or Treat!” to our neighbours. He seemed willing, but we actually only made it to 1 house when he decided he wanted to go home and forego candy-collecting altogether.

This year, Asher wanted to be Batman. He’s never seen a Batman show or movie or licensed product, but somehow he knows that Batman is a super hero, and he wanted to save people. He put on the costume and hit the streets. I threw on a wig – Cher circa 1987 – and put Levi in a stroller and hoped for the best. He was cautious at first. He didn’t know what to expect, and he’s a boy who likes to know what to expect every minute of the day. But after 3 or 4 houses, he found his groove and booked from house to house collecting as much junk as he could carry before he had to surrender to the weight of his goody bag and the need to wee after having refused to go to the loo before we left.

By the time we returned, Mommy was on the porch passing out candy to trick-or-treaters wearing a wig of very long, very thick dreadlocks. I put Levi to bed, and Asher helped Mommy distribute the last of the candy. I joined Asher and Mommy on the porch until the candy was gone. Cher, Bob Marley and Batman. I think he enjoyed giving more than receiving - clearly, he didn’t get that from me. 8pm. Well after Asher’s bed time. No candy left. A slight chill in the air. We packed it in, and I headed over to our neighbors’ party for drinks – wig in place – while Gabriella put Asher to bed.

The neighbors greeted me with a glass of red wine and inquiries about my “costume”. “Aside from President Palin, nothing is more frightening than a bad, 80s perm,” I said. In fact, I did sport the Flashdance perm in the 80s, and it was not one of my finer moments. Some might say that the party on the porch last night was also not one of my finer moments except that my neighbours did seem to enjoy the outspoken, politically incorrect, foul mouthed gal that I am.

When I first arrived, my neighbour walked me into the kitchen to serve me some homemade squash soup. There was a man in the kitchen I didn’t know. He looked me up and down and asked, “Is that hair real?” “No,” I answered, “but my boobs are.” And that was before I had a single sip of wine. I moved on to the porch where the only guests were the neighbours, and we were all enjoying a happy buzz except for the mummy-to-be who is about to drop twins. During the course of the evening, I did myself proud. I outed 2 of the European men at the party as being uncircumcised. I tried to convince the sweet young neighbour living with her boyfriend that she should take a lover, and, by the way, Gabriella worked long hours. I shared with my German neighbour all the dirty words I know in German and confessed that when we redid our kitchen, I tried to convince Gabriella not to get the German-made oven. The war is over, I realize, but I’d prefer not to own a German car with seat-warmers or a German oven. I can do without that kind of tested-efficiency, thank you very much. Not PC? Pogue mahone (kiss my arse)! (taught to me by my gay boy neighbor that night)

Gabriella let me sleep in and brought me breakfast in bed this morning. Now you know where Asher learned that giving is better than receiving. She is also my moral foil. She watched the Cher video while I was creating this entry and said, “Can you imagine her as your mother? Ok, she’s got a nice body, but put your stuff away, Mom!” Then she handed me the Chinese chicken wings she whipped up for dinner.