|
Happy Halloween: Here's my Card
by Kellie Head
Although we have lived in this area for almost four years, it didn't occur
to me until last Halloween night just how little I actually know about my
neighbors.
Bob Gilbert is a jeweler. I had always assumed he worked out of a
storefront, until Bobby Jr. made his trick-or-treating rounds dressed in
his daddy's suit. When he rang the bell, he flashed his jacket open,
exposing designer knock off watches. He made me a good deal on a matching
His and Her set, but that isn't the point.
Little Cindy Jackson wore a mid-1950's style, moth-hole ridden
cheerleading outfit and carried molting pom-poms. So much for her mother's
claims of being 39 again this year.
Manning the front door during prime candy-collecting hours provided me
with a wealth of knowledge about the inhabitants of my neighborhood.
However, the most accurate data was retrieved from the contents of my
children's trick-or-treat bag.
The Dentist next door distributed personalized toothbrushes, in an obvious
attempt at gaining new patients. I understand the concept of his
advertising, but perhaps tooth-rotting candy would be a quicker means to
the same end.
They also received house-shaped magnets from the local realtors.
Apparently this is the largest growing business in the area. We found
several of these magnets hidden within the Tootsie Rolls and Zagnut bars.
Multiply it by my six kids and we could personally alter the magnetic pull
of the Earth's gravitation.
Other goodies among the loot were apple-shaped erasers from teachers,
rubber gloves filled with popcorn from the doctors, a tax rate schedule
from the CPA (always a big hit with children) and milk bones from the
veterinarian on the block. The receptionist of the city's most prestigious
law firm offered pre-validated parking slips.
This year, to advertise my job as a mother, I'm going to join this new
trend in trick-or-treating by passing out my children for the weekend.
That way, treat for me, trick for my neighbors.
|
|
