The kids wore their costumes to school today. Jachin, however, also packed a pair of regular clothes, in case his plastic stormtrooper costume got too hot. And indeed, he came home this afternoon in plain clothes. When the time came to get redressed for trick or treating tonight, he didn’t want to do it.

“Mom, that costume is too hot!”

“Really? Because it will be cold tonight. Were you really that hot at school today?”

“Yes! You know when dad goes running and he gets a big sweat spot between his boobs…?”

*doing my darndest not to laugh* “Umm, on his chest, yes. Daddy doesn’t really have boobs.”

“…well, when I took off my costume, I had a sweat spot like that on my shirt… only mine was HUGE.”

How could I argue about the sweat spot between the boobs? Tonight he went out in his stormtrooper helmet… and a lightweight cotton shirt and jeans. (Cotton breathes.)

Ok, I remember reading the Stephen King short story, The Mist, when I was 12 or 13. Scary. As. Crap. (And we all know how scary crap can be, when it wants to be…) A “mist” —  like a thick, bright fog — rolls up on a town, driving a group of people into a large grocery store. They are trapped inside, waiting for the mist to subside. Watching from the floor-to-ceiling windows that span the entire front of the store, they see that the mist isn’t subsiding. They tie a rope to the waist of a willing man and send him out into the mist to find help; the rope will allow him to find his way back. He walks out the glass doors and quickly disappears into the thick mist. Soon after, the rope pulls tight, there are loud screams from the mist, and the rope breaks. There is something IN the mist. Insanity ensues. Scary stuff, man.

I just saw this ad on TV today for the first time.

Will the movie be lame? Almost assuredly… the book never mentioned a “government project” or some such nonsense.  And of course, the horrific images your mind conjures are always scarier than the best CGI. But I can honestly say I never thought they’d try to make this one, and I’m kinda interested to see what it’s like.

If nothing else, go read the story (in The Skeleton Crew) for Halloween. C-r-e-e-p-y!!

This morning at 9am I was going about my business of shuttling kids to different schools. First I drive Zoe across town to her school for kindergarten, then I drive Jachin back across town the other way to his school. At one of the 5 stoplights along the way back, I came to a stalled car. The light was red, but I could tell that the car was going nowhere because there was a teenage boy standing behind the car, preparing to push it while the mom, a teenage daughter, and another young daughter sat inside. After a nano-second of thinking “it’s a small car, he can probably push it himself”, I pulled off to the side, put on the hazard lights, and told Jachin to wait in the car. I got out of my car and started pushing right as the light turned green. We got the car off to the side of the road, and I asked the kid if they had a cell phone to call for a ride. He said they didn’t. At that point, the mom got out of the car and thanked me. I told her that I would run back to the car to get my cell phone for them to call someone. She said they had no one to call, but that usually, if they waited a little while, it would start back up. I wasn’t sure what to do… I felt a little weird leaving them all sitting there along side the road, holding their backpacks, waiting for their car to start. I asked if I could do anything for them. The mom said, “Well, are you going that way?”, pointing south. I said yes. She told me that her two teenagers were in a program at UVSC to finish up their associates degrees before graduation (from high school). She said that it was very important that they get there on time. She asked if I’d drive them. I said sure. I still felt weird leaving the lady and little girl sitting there along the road, but I took the other two with me.

When we walked back around the corner to my idling car, Jachin was sitting in the front seat, the hazards flashing on and off intermittently, the windshield wipers going, and the headlights now on. A few more minutes and he may have taken himself to school. I motioned for him to get in the backseat. The teenage girl opened the door to get in the front seat. I had to move my old purse (still sitting there because I haven’t quite finished moving over all of the important stuff to my new purse), a hoodie, some school papers, a water bottle, some candy wrappers, and some swimming goggles. The teenage boy, who had to ride in the back with Jachin, had a tougher time. The backseat contains two booster seats for the kids, with the ”middle” seat being open. And when I say it’s open, I mean the middle seat is the trashcan for the backseat. He had to sit in the empty booster. A 16 year old butt in a booster seat that a five year old usually sits in. Before actually being able to enter the car, he took his foot and shoved a clean spot on the floor for his feet to rest. Crap in the back: three sweaters, empty chip bags, half of a cookie, another pair of swimming goggles, more papers, two pairs of shoes, and empty juice boxes. 

I was humiliated.

I apologized repeatedly to the teenagers I had “rescued” and then forced to ride in my mobile trash can. 

I drove quickly, telling them about the time my car broke down while I was pregnant with Jachin. It was right at a stoplight at the exit to a movie theater. Everyone honked and flicked me off and screeched their tires going around me, and no one would stop to help a pregnant chick.

They were impressed and saddened by my story, and I think my plan of diverting their attention from all of the trash in my car was working. Oh, but the story came to an end and we weren’t to the college yet. The girl’s gaze wandered back down to the remains of my old purse; receipts, wrappers, old tissues, a few odd pieces of gum…

I offered her some of the gum.

She politely declined. 

I dropped them off and wished them luck. The boy accidentally kicked a juice box out of the car, and it clanked to the pavement. He picked it up, not sure what to do with it, and threw it back in.

Note to self: clean. your. friggin. car.