Yes, this is how I greeted my children this morning. They have come to expect their mom/bonus mom in costume, with spooktacular treats prepared for breakfast. I do it all in my mom’s spirit and memory.
Halloween was always epic in my house. I am still known in certain circles for my mom’s intricately decorated, spook filled haunted houses. You could hear the chilling music from a mile away. My mom rigged a ghost to fly down to scare the shit out of any child who dared to reach into her smoking cauldron of candy.Β π»Β And, if they weren’t spooked enough after surviving several creeptastic rooms of horror, my father would chase after them as a deranged warewolf Frankenstein hybrid. I could go on and on.
Anyway, my mom owned Halloween. Her witch cackle (and homemade costume, warts and all) were second-to-none.Β π―
As an adult, I used to love getting her wake-up calls on Halloween. “I am going to get you my little sweetie!” [Insert cackle here] She would always deliver the best trick or treat bags, filled to the brim with goodies for my kids and me. To say I miss her desperately today is an understatement.Β π
Instead of dwelling on my sadness, I honor her as the Queen of MissFortune. My cackle isn’t as good as hers, and I have yet to tackle a haunted house (next year!), but, today and every day, I am my mother’s daughter.Β π
Happy Halloween!Β ππππ