The Secret Diary of a Paddy CM - 28th October
Well…. its now Tuesday and kids bedroom still remains only half painted. Don’t know why but I just couldnt get into the frame of mind to be creative. Having the kids screaming downstairs is quite off putting. Even though his Lordship was there to diffuse any minor skirmishes, I could hear his voice getting quite high pitched as he was telling em off. Enter visions of kids swinging from the light fittings armed with water guns!
Ben hasn’t got the idea of the clocks going back yet, and for the third successive day has got up before 5am and is already armed for battle by the time His Lordship goes to work. So here I am…walking about like some kind of zombie, skin as white as a sheet and eyes so bloodshot and saggy that I could go as a bloodhound to a fancy dress party and win first prize without making an effort. Looking on the brightside, at least I can now go trick or treating with the kids and maybe take me own bag to hoard the loot!
Ahhhh trick or treating! I HATE trick or treating. HATE HATE HATE it! Call me a miserable old bag (hell why not you wouldnt be the first and definately wont be the last) but to me its just another form of begging. Only this way the police dont move you on.
Before we moved here, we lived in a tiny 2 up 2 down and we didnt have a hallway so our front door was in our living room. Bit hard to hide from the hundreds of made up delinquents armed with absolutely everything they could think of to pull a prank. For a couple of years we ended up with our windows egged, flour through our letter box, super glue in our locks and front door spray painted bright pink. So I decided to fight back.
My eldest had a water gun, one of those super charged ones that resembled the ones riot police used at Millwall v West Ham games in the 1980’s. So I filled it up and stuck it behind my front door. I also had a huge bowl of sweets for the little kids who knocked. (Im not completely barbaric). So there I sat… in waiting for my prey. It was sooo much fun. With every knock, the adrenaline run through me, heart racing with excitement. Id open the door to see who was there. For the first few knocks it was the little sproglets with their mums, all holding out their little pumpkin shaped pots watching me fill them up with handfuls of midget gems and smarties. Then…. as it got later… the older ones came out to play. When the doorbell rang, His Lordship looked through the spyhole to check, then he opened the door. Im standing poised the other side, finger on the trigger, waiting to avenge my attackers from previous years. As these teens stood there, having made little more effort than buying a cheap pair of fangs from the shop and throwing a bin bag over their shoulders, Im waiting! Then “trick or treat” rung out in 5 semi broken voices. His Lordship moved out of the way and I sprung into action. “TRICK” I shouted as I engaged my finger on the trigger.
Ohhhhh the buzz of watching these kids run down the path was almost too much to take. We all stood in our doorway in hysterics as these kids battled to get through the tiny garden gate all at the same time to avoid the contant onslaught of cold water!.
Not quite the same now we’ve moved. Because we live upstairs in an area where there arent many kids, we dont get trick or treaters. In fact I dont think we’ve had anyone knock for the last few years.
My older kids hate me because I wont let them do it. I know my eldest does, but he doesnt know I know. He goes out, telling me he is off to youth club armed with his rucksack. Funny how its the only day of the year he takes it with him. I know he goes to his friends to get ready and then goes back round there afterwards to change back. He wont be doing it this year though as he is still grounded!
And then… as soon as Halloween is over, we get the penny for the guy brigade. Im tempted to borrow my Mum in Laws mobility scooter and put His Lordship in it. Id make a fortune!
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