Haunted House

Even before M. Edium was born, I was always the one in our house who did the Halloween decorating. I tended to do it while my wife was out of the house, and would always try to go for the surprise. Skeletons in the china cabinet, eyeballs in the bathtub, a severed hand in the candy jar, that kind of thing.

Now that we've got a four-year-old in the house, I thought I would have to tone it down. Maybe not put batteries in all the motion-activated spooky-noisemakers we own. What I didn't expect was for him to take such an active role in the process.

I've got this skull that's quite realistic-looking, except for the fact that its crown broke off years ago in a neat circle and I can't glue it back together. This year I finally gave up on it and threw it in the trash. Later, when returning to the bin of decorations in the living room, I spotted it lying there on the rug.

"I took it out of the trash, Dad," M. Edium explained. "I didn't want you to throw it away."

So I didn't. Now it's just lying in the front yard with the leg and arm bones, looking like it once belonged to the victim of a vicious trepanning.

What's even better is the growing number of colored cutouts of things like pumpkins and witches and stuff. I used to tape them to the inner doors at about my eye level. Somehow, this year, a lot of them ended up on the wall, at about the level of my waist.

I'm looking forward to passing the decorating torch to my son. I'm already getting surprised.

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Haunted House

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