Showing posts with label Don't Boo me--please. Show all posts

There is something about this time of year that makes me jumpy, nervous and inclined to peek over my shoulder. No, it’s not ghosts, at least not real ones. (Three weird Halloween facts about moi: I have eight black and orange totes filled with Halloween stuff, I believe in certain kinds of apparitions and tragic--even semi-tragic--ghost stories make me cry. Like a baby. ) No, the thing that makes me start with terror is the sight of that 8.5 by 11 inch piece of paper that reads: You’ve been boo’d!

So, to those who like to Boo people at Halloween, this list is for you.

The Reasons Being Boo’d Makes Me Want To Write A Letter Of Complaint To The Guv-nah

1) That 8.5X11 piece of paper? It comes with baked goods. Unless it is clear as a ghost that these goods came from a professional bakery (dream on!) I am simply going to toss them out and with observable relish. I don’t know who left them, I don’t know if someone at your house is sick or not and most especially, I don’t know if you thought perhaps it would be fun to let your snotty-nosed kid frost the grinning pumpkins. (I have a most decided prejudice against snotty-nosed kids.)

2) I am suddenly required to make (or buy) goodies for two (two!) other lucky recipients within the next 24 (24!) hours. Sorry, but that is just not enough notice for lame old me.

3) I am required to deliver said goodies to the doorstep of two (two!) lucky recipients anonymously, i.e, in the dark of night. I don’t go out at night. (It’s a fibromyalgia thing.)

4) I have to give some thought to whom the recipients of my largesse should be. Hmmmmm, anonymous, possibly germ-infected, hastily home-baked goods and the injunction to run pelting into the night to duplicate my efforts . . .should it be someone I like or someone I hate with the kind of loathing generally reserved for people like, say, Hitler. This is always the toughest part of this whole being boo’d thing.

In years past, when I think of it in time, I hang the previous year’s boo note on my entryway gate to alert one and all that I have already been boo’d. (Snot a lie—I have been boo’d, after all, or I wouldn’t have that darn piece of terrifying paper!) However, something happened to me this year that changed everything. See below:

Apparently, the tradition of “boo-ing” people has reached the mainstream to the point that it has become a commercial entity. See the adorable paper baskets proclaiming you have been boo’d? Better yet, see the germ-free mini candy bars with labels proclaiming the same? These take all the last-minute agony out of the entire event. Except for being the victims, er, recipients of anonymous possibly germ-infected home baked goods which are going straight into the garbage, wasting the precious resources of whomever dumped them on me AND the need to go out at night to deliver more of the same, the products pictured above take all the horror out of being boo’d. Words simply can’t express my feelings when I clapped eyes on these goodies. Immediately and with shaking hands I snapped these up and hid them in my bedroom.

And then I ate them.

(Oops!)

P.S. The Annex published my Simpatico post from Sunday. It's always a pleasure and an honor to be "published" at the annex but many of you know that far better than I! See other great posts by clicking on the banner for Blogger's Annex in my sidebar.

P.S.S. If you click on the following link, you can rate this post and some others as well. http://humor-blogs.com/BlogProfile.aspx?SiteID=3352

P.S.S.S. I had a hard time with this post--I heartily apologize if this same post (with slight and minor alerations) showed up in your google reader four or five times. It was one of those nights wherein little sleep was had and my brain is still trying to catch up.