Derek brought Halloween Candy home prior to Halloween because it was on sale at Aldi and he thought he might as well pick some up in case we needed it. We never do. No-one Halloween's here in Australia anyway, and then with the whole clown thingy, parents were terrified to let their kids out … especially if they were dressed as clowns.
I actually think that is brilliant, wish I had thought of it when my kids were going out. We could have stopped the whole Halloween nonsense and saved a heck of a lot of money for both candy and dental bills in the process. We were too busy hugging clowns and making clown dolls and thinking they were cute and the fun part of going to the circus when we should have been terrorizing everyone with them.
Just another missed opportunity from my youth to add to the scrap book my great aunt is keeping on me, in case God forgets anything.
The kids used to come out on the street here but the people at the end of our dead end street are so mean and nasty to everybody that the kids just decided, for their own safety, to create a 10 house radius around them. And those people aren't even dressed as clowns. Go figure. Do you think they vet the people who end up living at the dead part of a dead end street? I only ask because the people on our street seem to have really taken on the spirit of "dead-end" in all they do. It is crazy to see how people, small children and animals who walk down the street seem to hit this invisible wall just when they get close to the dead end houses, and then turn and walk away. Some even run.
I am pretty sure there is a psychic barrier of death there.
It just means that at Halloween my husband has to run down the street with our bowl of candy throwing candy at any children we see, knocking on doors, asking if they have any kids and begging them to take some of our candy. Last year he only found one, so he dumped the whole bowl into the kid's pillow case. That kid loves Derek. He has really bad teeth, but he loves him anyway.
His parents suspect Derek of being a closet clown.
When Derek came home from shopping, he threw the candy bags on the table. I looked at them and every bag had a mixture of candy and a lot of it was really different from the kind of candy we have in Canada. That was not fair. I mean what if I died of old age tomorrow and there was candy just sitting on the kitchen table that I had never ever even tried? I kept looking at the candy and then I would move the candy around in the bag and squeeze them a little to see if they were soft or hard. I would look at them through the little bits of clear cellophane and wonder. I am pretty sure there was crack on the cellophane and I didn't stand a chance. Still, I forced myself to walk away.
But then, I saw the new bowl and like, we have never really tried it out or anything. So I got the new bowl and I put the bags inside it but that just looked silly. So then, I did what any self-respecting home decorator would do, I opened the bags and poured the candy into the bowl properly. Then I arranged the candy so it looked nice. Then I rearranged it. Then I turned the bowl to a different angle and stepped back to really look at it. Then I closed one eye and looked again.
It was a good bowl. It bowled well. Thank heavens, I would not have to return it. Nothing worse than having a bowl that just simply was not an effective "bowler."
Then I thought I would just try ONE of the candies. You know, because I was here alone in Australia, a Canadian, exploring other countries, meant to be making scientific notations in my journals so that future Canadians would have Aussie candy all mapped out for them. It was a completely selfless act of service for my country.
I think MAYBE two nanosecond passed before I was ripping off wrappers and shoving candy into my mouth with both hands. My brain was screaming, "Please God, someone stop me," but I was a tree, falling in a forest and there was no-one around to hear. My fingers moved in a ballet of precision, pulling candy from foil and cellophane, moving the candy towards my mouth while still at work, not wanting to waste one more second than I absolutely had to, before my mouth enveloped each new treasure.
The thing is, they all tasted so awful. I think we just keep eating Halloween candy because we hope that just maybe, the NEXT one will be worth eating. But it never is. I even ate those little chalky pill like things wrapped in a cellophane roll. Can anything be that sweet? Then I found a packet that was those same pills crushed up into a powder and there was a little plastic spoon/shovel thing inside. I ate all of that. Then I licked the inside the package.
I knew that at the rate I was going, the kids were going to be left with all the dud candies but then I realized I probably would not even be there when they came because I probably already had diabetes and any minute then I was going to have a diabetic attack and the ambulance would be called, the police would probably accidently taser me because the one candies made me foam at the mouth and I would be locked in a padded room somewhere wiping the charcoal from my mouth on my naked arm because they had to pump my stomach.
I actually had a tear, thinking of the poor children opening their bags and seeing what they ended up with, because I had started in on the duds.
Maybe they would just get a rice cracker each.
Or a ziplock bag of dried spaghetti.
I felt so ashamed. I considered just going and throwing myself into the psychic barrier of death at the dead end of the street, but then I found the yellow smooshhy ones and ohhhhh ….
Derek found me huddled in a sugar coma. I tried to rewrap some of the candy I had spit out because it tasted so bad, but he insisted … he had to go and buy some more candy. I want to say that I was really upset … but I was hooked. I was an addict and he was my supplier and while we could not speak those words out loud, I knew what I had to do. I had to stop those children from even thinking of coming to our house and getting ANY of MY candy.
I bought a clown outfit and I stood on the street in front of our house. I felt the psychic barrier of death move past me and spread itself out, blocking the children from coming near our house. I was now part of the dead end dead people. I felt my blood pounding in my head and I never, ever, felt more alive. I was creating an urban legend. I WAS an urban legend. I was going to terrorize innocent children and steal their candy.
Best Halloween EVER!!
SKIN: Cupcakes - Seduction - Copper NLA
BODY PARTS: SLink FEMALE (Av.Enhance) Hands and Feet
EYES: Egozy..Eyes Enigmatic Collection
HAIR: .:EMO-tions.. * FINYA*hair-black-x
GLASSES: AsHmOoT_Acc Coll_Nerd Glasses
HEAD PIECE: *LODE* Head Accessory - Forest Breath
JACKET: erratic / anya - jacket / navy
CORSET: *SoliDea FoliEs* retro _bustier XXS
SHOES: ...Mutresse... Genovia Booties - 20 Colors
CLOUD PROP and POSES: [POE4] # 205 shopo.O_cloudy Cloud Stool
BIRD: nVespertine fabric bird-songbird 2/pinky
BALLOONS: +Half-Deer+ Fairylight Balloons [Pastel Set]