As I walked around in the dark last night, I wrote a little poem, one I shall share with you now.
A Heartfelt Ode to Halloween:
“I love my kids, I’m so glad I have four
Because that means my candy is more
Bit ‘o Honey’s and Milk Duds drop out of their hands
And into my pocket ‘cause they’re my favorite brands
I eat them as I walk, I steal them from my neighbors
I drop wrappers behind me since I don’t like empty papers
For breakfast and lunch and second lunch I indulge
And pray that my stomach doesn’t once again bulge
So tomorrow I might do a sit up or three
But only so I can eat another Hershey
Oh candy, I love you, we should really get married
Except we can’t because I already am…crap.”
(applause, lighters in the air, and I bow)
A weak ending, but I was just so depressed.
Anyhoo…raise your plastic Halloween buckets if you’re eating candy while you read this! A Heath bar for me, and I don’t care that I haven’t had my coffee yet. I earned this candy. Walked miles for it.
Stole it from asked nicely for it from the neighbor kids. Twice, I almost got hit by a car. Once, by a guy on a bike. Lives were in peril. People could have died. Namely me, because I was too busy tearing into Milk Duds boxes to pay much attention to things like traffic and my own children, but that’s beside the point.
Halloween is a dangerous holiday. But totally, completely worth it. We should really do it again next year.
But you know what isn’t worth it? Allergies, that’s what. Colds, that’s also what. They stink. They suck, bad. Except this week I can’t breathe in or out, so even those adjectives aren’t correct, because I can’t do either. If something were on fire, I wouldn’t smell it. Probably not even if it were my own hair. And as far as sucking goes, I’m pretty sure if I tried to drink through a straw I’d choke to death. I tried this yesterday just to test my theory and wound up sputtering Diet Coke through my nose.
I thought maybe that would take care of my plugged-up-ness since Coke is known to eat away yuck on a car engine…but no.
But here’s the sad thing about this particular allergy attack: I got it from church. Seriously, I did. So I totally blame them for currently trying to kill me (not really).
So my church has spent the past seven years at a temporary location—a great place to hold the services—but still, temporary. Anyway, the church people (dear friends of mine) bought some property, and sometime in the next year or so we will have ourselves a permanent location. So to celebrate this awesome new venture, last Sunday the church held an outdoor service on our new property. We had bouncy houses! Pony rides! Balloons! Face painting! Food! Dessert! Which—funny enough—I was asked to help out with. Clearly no one at church reads my blog or they would know my idea of dessert is Cool Whip out of the container topped off with Hershey syrup right out of the bottle.
But…being the congenial person I am (*pats self on back*), I assisted with the food. I cooked chili! I opened hot dog packages! I dumped soda cans in coolers! I ran to Sam’s for more supplies! (Which, by the way, is NOT welcoming of people who bang on their windows fifteen minutes before opening on a chilly Sunday morning, no matter how much you smile and try to act sweet even though you’re sweating profusely under your fleece Northface jacket because you need more cooking utensils and church is starting in half-an-hour). But eventually, with utensils in hand, I made it back to the property…and assembled cookies! And carried platters! And sprinkled cheese!
And finally, got attacked by waves of smoke from the grilling hot dogs and Bratwursts. So much smoke I needed a gas mask. So much smoke it was like being back in high school, walking past the hazy outdoor circle where the stoners hung out.
Except I was at church, and I am pretty sure no one was getting high, except on the awesome amounts of free-flowing food.
And I’ve been sneezing ever since. And that is the story of my allergy woes.
I’ve taken Benadryl. I’ve tried the Neti Pot. I’ve even hung my head upside down to let my sinuses clear because I read that piece of crap advice on Google. Nothing is working. I’ve tried it all.
Except this chocolate caramel staring at me from the inside of my son’s plastic pumpkin.
I have never tried that.