All Hallows Eve

Another Halloween has come and gone. Parading down Church Street this year we were dressed as a cocktail shaker and a martini, two Mormon missionaries, a sailor, Jack from A Nightmare Before Christmas, Willy Wonka and Veruca. My squirrel was a huge hit even though Jesus broke one of his claws when his robes got caught. Luckily the bone held and I managed to crazy glue little Skippy back together. A close call considering I plan on re-eBaying him. Cute yes, but $47 worth of cute? No. And the thought of dusting a dead rodent is too much even for me.

While I admit my squirrel expenditure was excessive, I hope to recoup some of that. KitKat however spent $42 on smarties to fill his Willy Wonka cane and has little chance at getting anything but cavities. I hope his SoniCare is charged. It was well worth it though. He was far and away the best Willy on the strip. And there were quite a few. While it did not garner an award this year (he was robbed I tell you!) he and Veruca found validation in the form of the Japanese paparazzi. As usual, the village was awash in people from the suburbs, those outside the community (which of course we welcome with open arms) and the evening news looking for the season’s best. Willy (KitKat) couldn’t walk 5 feet without having one of his brothers or sisters wanting to “capture him for posterity.”

By nights end I had flashbacks of an outing with my friend Paola. She had a beautiful fur coat and was out for a Saturday evening of excess. Suffice it to say that as her mother sat in church the next morning she thought the man next to her was in dire need of a shower. No matter how far down the pew she scooted, the smell followed. To put this as delicately as possible, let me just say the poor Paola had regurgitated her dinner on her coat the night before. She thought she had cleaned it in a snow bank (and who hasn’t been there?) but apparently not. Mind you, the smell was nothing compared to the shock of finding a little baggy of pot in the coat pocket as she fumbled for a tissue to mask the smell. Wacky tobaccy in church! Oh my.

Luckily my fur coat was neither beautiful nor worn anywhere the next day. It is cleaned, sans squirrel and in my tickle trunk. If only it was white I would contemplate Cruella Daville next year. Of course with a little bleach……..