I was a child once. Back then I played with my dog. Shot hoops in the yard. Ate pizza at birthday parties and occasionally skint my knees or had to deal with the passing of a family member that I really never knew. My family all expected me to be more sad than I actually was at a lot of those events. I was afraid to seem mean by not being really broken up about the loss, so what did I do? I got in some valuable acting practice. When I get my academy award for best actor, I'll extend my warmest gratitude to my great aunt Beatrice. Most kids, myself included, enjoyed participating in the holiday known as Halloween. In my home town we all gathered on the square for Halloween. There were a bunch of people in costumes giving candy to kids and having a merry old time.
So you take kids, who are dumb anyway, and you put them in a massive crowd filled with people in disguises. You have the kids interact with the strangers in disguises and that interaction involves accepting sugary treats that are sometimes home made. This was before the news reported the out of control rates of child poisoning that went on during Halloween. How does one arrive at that impulse? “Been a slow year at the factory. Wife left me, dumb bitch. They even promoted that young fella over me. I've been assembling battery powered drills for 12 whole years now! What does he have over me besides a bachelors degree? Well Halloween is coming up......guess I'll make brownies for the kids like me and Marlene always used to do. Little shits. This year I'll make them brownies with some anti-freeze! Yea that'll show this whole county......that I'm a total piece of shit. Hmmm, I wonder if there's a football game gonna be on tonight.”
Anyway, I was with my mom, who was dressed like a clown. Just one more drop in the “I want to traumatize my children bucket.” She also had very elaborately painted her face. So that's a drop in the “I want to lose my child today and thus rid myself of the burden of raising him” bucket. I was known to stick close to my mother because she conditioned all of us kids to do that. She had a simple but effective method for insuring our conformity. Rewards of an action figure, or an extra snack or a hug could be won for staying by my mother's side. What was her reward for the occasional straying? An old world butt blistering with a wooden paddle. Followed by continuous threats for more ass blasting if the inevitable crying wasn't quickly silenced. And in short, that's why I never explore.
Let's cut to the chase, the crowd was too big and too pushy and I wasn't really paying attention so I lost track of my family. Thanks to it being a crowd full of people in disguises, I didn't recognize a single person. So what did I do then, evade despair by planning a harrowing search through the crowd of devils, ghouls and goblins? No, I began to cry uncontrollably. I'm not Kevin McCallister guys. I don't have a back up plan at 7 years old or any plan really. To be honest, not much has changed since then. I didn't even try to get some help. I just knew my life was over and if my mom did find me, my ability to sit down was over.
I remember thinking that I had seen a guy dressed as Jesus when I arrived on the square. So why not try to find Jesus? That is what our preacher was always trying to get us to do after all. But no dice, I could only find people portraying the only things that actually scare kids. Devils, monsters and all around creepy folks.
It was around this time that the most kind heart-ed witch that I've ever know walked up to me and said “We will find your family, don't worry.” The other witches that I've met prefer the color black on everything, are vegans and pretty much just look the way that Evanescence sounds. I realize now that that lady was the kind of woman that I love the most. She was somebody's boss, and she was the kind of boss that put up with absolutely no bullshit. So she held my hand and sternly but calmly walked us around the square tapping on shoulders and asking them if they knew my family, as I'd given her their names.
At long last, my dear friend and probable future employer led me to my family. There was some hugging and some emotion. Of course my family was happy to see me and I them. The witch was thanked and said goodbye. The reunion was perfect, except that my dad made me blow my nose into his handkerchief. I would have really appreciated that if he had not already used the damn thing. I was thanking God for sending me a witch, for my family reunion and for my unspanked bottom.
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