Yesterday, I told you how much I enjoy getting booed every year by our neighbors. Somebody leaves a plate of treats at our door and tells us we’ve been booed. We’re then supposed to hang up a sign on our front door so we’re not booed again and we’re supposed to boo two other families.
But I have set a policy that the boo stops here. Why bother putting up the sign? And really, why bother booing my neighbors? I have no problem taking all the treats that come my way, and I don’t want to burden my poor neighbor with an assignment to make treats for other people. She’s way to busy for that, I’m sure.
But this year, my husband (the captain) stayed home on Monday from work, and he took over my job for the day so I could write. I know, I know. I’m totally spoiled, but then again, all of my entitlement behavior can be traced to all the times I’ve been booed.
Unfortunately, the captain discovered we were booed before I did and because he is such a man of duty, he got right on top of things. He went out and bought brownie mixes (and Cap’n Crunch and Swedish fish: that’s another story, but let’s just say that my children think the captain should go shopping more often.) He made the brownies and found plates and even found the aluminum foil.
Worst of all, he put up the sign that said we have been booed! WHAT????? No more secret plates of treats this season???? No more pumpkin loaves or sugar cookies or caramel cakes on my doorstep? I felt no giddiness, no anticipation as I opened my front door this morning. All I found was the newspaper with no candy wrapped inside. Apparently, Deseret News has not been booed yet.
I’m feeling a transformation coming on—I’m afraid I’m turning into the new Halloween scrooge. Bah and boo hoo to you! Or I should say boo humbug?! Let the ghosts come to haunt me! As long as they bring treats.
Have you been booed? Are you a man/woman of duty or a total slacker?