My child is trying to kill me.
I nearly had a stroke when TinyTuna announced this weekend that she was too old for the pumpkin patch. "We can just go and get one at the store." she said.
I peeled out of the parking lot and drove to the store as fast as possible before she changed her mind ... or aliens let her re-enter her body .. or sucked me out of this hella pleasant alternate universe.
We made it to the store in record time, and found the large cardboard box of pumpkins that were all of $2.88 apiece. It was cheap. It was beautiful. It was painless. It was dirt-free, hay-free, patch-free, rotten pumpkin all over your shoes-free. As I stood in the 12 item or less U-Scan line, I was certain that this, THIS was what heaven would be like.
And then today....
As we came home tonight and walked through the drizzle toward the house, she asked me if we would still go trick or treating if it is raining outside. But she's not asking in that passionately defiant "neither rain nor snow" kind of voice. No. I hear the unmistakable trace of "...because I'm starting to think that trick or treating in the cold, nasty rain is a pain in the pink princess pumpkin pail..."
I looked at her and said, "Listen. If you want, I would be more than happy to go to the grocery store, buy you a bag of whatever you want, and then on Halloween night we can go to the movies."
"REALLY?" She asked.
"Oh yeah. You say the word. I'll go right now."
"Well...." The nanoseconds seemed like nanohours as she pondered this suddenly appealing option. My heart began to race. I clutched my cars keys. COULD I BE THIS LUCKY?????
"Next year. When I'm 12."
She had better not be toying with me.