Halloween was probably the fullest day on our calendar in ages. It began with a sleepover, went on to a Football game and proceeded to all the fun that goes along with the holiday.

Trick or treating? He didn’t want to go. Declared Halloween babyish and “stupid”.  Now this killed me, because Halloween is perhaps my favorite holiday. It’s the sole reason I had a child. (Okay, maybe not the sole reason.)

I tell him that we were invited to go Trick or Treating with two of his closest friends. He laid there, lifeless on the couch with a pillow over his head. I then resorted to threats. If he didn’t get up and go, I was:

1. Going to go without him. Yes, I would have. I like the moms that were going and I wanted to get out and socialize.
2. Going to ban Hanukkah in this house. No gifts. That one was a complete fib, afterall it’s the second reason I had a child.

Nothing. Had no effect.

Then we realized that maybe he didn’t like his costume and targeted that issue.  My husband and I pulled out everything we could find. Tossed countless costume options his way.  I only stopped short at a stripper costume, because I couldn’t find half of my black lace set from my getaway this weekend. This then turned into crying, slamming doors and overall misery for all parties involved. Lethal.

Then I told him that if he didn’t get up and go with me, he could not come to the Halloween party later on that night. Now this threat perked him up.  This party is one he did not want to miss.

So rotten child got up. Graced me with putting on his shoes and sneakers and got in the car with me. Complete silence for the entire ride, which really wasn’t such a terrible thing.

On the way there I suggested that if anyone asked what he was dressed as, his response should be:

I am dressed as a miserable child

We pull up to the trick or treating crew’s home and another fit is released. He doesn’t want to go. Again.

That’s it, I’m at my limit and I call one of the moms. I tell him that my son is throwing a fit and doesn’t want to go. This WONDERFUL mom comes out of the house and pulls my son aside. I have NO clue what she said to him, but magically, he ran into the house to join his friends.

Ahhhhhhhhh

So we venture out. In cold, windy New Jersey weather. Remnants of  “Ghosting Night” is all over the neighborhood.   Perhaps the most unique I’ve seen to date is this one:

“Members” drawn in chalk on sidewalks all over the neighborhood.

Anyway, this boy, dressed as a miserable child was running around the neighborhood like $100 bills were being handed out.  This miserable child had a smile on for the rest of the day.

This miserable child said to me at bed time last night:

I really did want to go trick or treating all along.

Huh?

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It is with a smile that I ask the following of you, now that you are back home from your 3 week trip. You were missed, however there are some things I would like to ask of you now that you have returned. 

Please…………..

1. Do not touch the laundry. Ever.  Don’t even move it from the washer to the drier. Don’t fold it. Don’t look at it. Nothing. You never put any of it away, so I will leave that side of it out.
2. Do not unload the dishwasher unless you are going to put EVERYTHING away.  Leaving the utensil bin on the counter completely full and the pots and pans on the island does not count for being “put away”.  If you can’t do it all, don’t even bother.
3. The sink is NOT the garbage can. There is no reason to leave ice cream wrappers in the sink.  Go for burning the extra 2 calories by bending slightly at the waist and placing in in the garbage can located directly UNDER that sink.
4. Shovel the fronts stairs when it snows.  Just because you enter through the garage doesn’t mean the rest of the world should fall on their ass because the front stairs are slippery.
5. Do not pick out our son’s clothing.  I buy him pretty safely colored clothing and how you could possibly come up with the rare selection that doesn’t match is beyond me.  Royal Blue pants paired with an orange tee shirt is a big fat NO.  There is no reason for him to look like a homeless child. He will just get picked on.  I ask you to abide by this for the sake of your son’s social welfare.
6. Decorative pillows are not foot rests. That’s what the ottoman is for. Perhaps if you took the slippers and tv remotes out of the magazine rack and put the newspapers from the ottoman in them instead, then everything could be used in the way they were intended to be used.
7. It’s fine that you like the cookies I buy, however could you not leave the empty bag in the pantry? That’s just plain inconsiderate. I could have replaced them had I known there were none left. Now I am left with my tea and…….nothing.
8. I’m sorry you can’t sleep sometimes. I know it stinks to be up at 4:30 am and not be able to fall back asleep.  However why does everyone else have to get up too? Can’t you close the bedroom doors before you turn on lights in the other rooms? Can’t you just take a few ice cubes directly from the freezer rather than using the (loud) automatic ice dispenser?

Anyway…welcome home. We are glad you are back.

PS:  When is your next trip?

Just asking

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Ramen Noodles

I’m very particular in how I eat them  I never really follow the directions, though how rough is it to boil water, really?  My special (repulsive to most people) version:

Add less than the required amount of water, because who cares about the soup part of it?  Break up noodles and boil until most of the water has evaporated out. What is left is a thick, starchy mush of flavored noodles. Over cooked? Yes. Delicious? Extremely. The perfect beverage to compliment them? Orange Juice.

I broke the habit though. For the next 20 years they were gone from my pantry and gone from my diet.  And yes, I thought about them often. Fondly. But I was strong.

And then I happened upon this great recipe:

Asian Slaw:

• 2 – 1 pound bags of coleslaw.
• 1 bunch of chopped green onions (optional)

Mix with and chill until ready to serve:

• 2 packages of Ramen noodle seasoning
• 1/3 cup cider vinegar or rice wine vinegar
• ½ cup sugar (more or less to taste)
• ½ cup oil

Toss the following ingredients with some oil and toast until brown:

• 2 packages Ramen noodles, broken up (Oriental flavor – or 1 oriental, 1 chicken)
• 4 oz. package of almond slivers(or chopped peanuts)

Do not add the nut/noodle mixture until just before ready to serve.

This is a bad thing. Ramen noodles. You are back, and in bulk. The worst part is that as I type this, a pot of them are cooking. Not for the coleslaw, but for my old friend….the overcooked, starchy, mushy version of soup that I love so very much.

I am a junkie and I am weak.

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1. I like to sleep naked. I just love the feeling of the cool cotton sheets on my skin. I don’t get to practice this one much anymore, because my son’s 9 and I just feel it’s not appropriate.  The other weekend, my husband was traveling for work and my son slept at my parents for the night.  I slept in a little bit and was woken up by my son and dad. They were standing right next to my bed. Yes, I was naked. And yes, I’m still mortified.

2. When I have a girl’s night out, my significant other will send me little texts. They are usually sexual in nature and are supposed to entice me to hurry home.  I love them and it’s fun to flirt with him like that after so many years together.  However the downside to texting is that if you have spell check many words are not recognized.  Sexual words included.  So  it’s hard not to laugh when some of them arrive. For instance:  “Can’t wait to ‘blah, blah, blah’ your clot“.  Clot? It’s only one letter off from the correct spelling, but hysterically incorrect, especially after a nice glass of wine.

3. I am a notorious klutz.  But a fashionable klutz at that. One morning during rush hour, while working in NYC’s garment center, I fell right there on Broadway.  Apparently I missed the fact that there was a curb to walk up and I landed on my knees in the middle of masses of people.  One woman helped me up.  Heel broken, torn stockings, bloody knees.  Head over to my office building and get in the elevator. Same woman is there too. Off the elevator and into my actual office. Same woman is there too. Same woman?  My 8:30 AM appointment with the new Bloomingdale’s buyer. The funny part of this is…..she did buy from me. We are now friends, even 20 years later. And she will never let me forget that I am a massive klutz.

4. I really don’t drink very well. If I have more than two glasses of anything…I start to lisp. So rather than sounding like a 45 year old Cindy Brady, I keep things to two drinks or less.

5. I had a difficult time in conceiving.  Right after my second IVF, my mom came to stay with me for a couple of days, because I had to be on bed rest and my husband was traveling for work.  Loved her staying with me. She did my cooking, laundry and housekeeping. Who wouldn’t love that?  When I was allowed to get out of bed finally, I attacked putting away the laundry. My mom had neatly folded some lingerie for me. I had to laugh. Good grief. How do you look your mom in the face after she’s folded your black lace bra and thong?

Okay, that’s enough for the dignity loss post…

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