Are you sick yet of Halloween? No? Great. ’Cause Mulletween 2010 was super dandy and I'd like to tell you all about it.
This is the first year we’ve trick or treated in our neighborhood; I must say, I was pleasantly surprised. There wasn’t a mullet to be seen—just lots of parents dropping off their kids while they waited in their 4x4s and smoked.
As for our neighbors, one nice man dumped his entire bucket of candy into Junior’s bag after admitting he forgot it was Halloween (he’d been too engrossed in the Patriot’s game to answer the door). His lovely woman friend waited until we were almost out of earshot to call him an asshole.
"Mommy? What's an asshole?"
Another neighbor let Junior pet her New England chickens. When the blind one tried to peck Junior’s costumed feet, the woman kicked it.
And hello, hearty aerobics. The neighborhood is an outdoor gym, I tell you. It’s house after house of this:
Yes, poor Junior’s “trick or treats” sounded more like “triiiiiii...ck [gasp, gasp] ohhhhhhhhhhr [gasp, gasp] treeeeeeeeee......at” but he scored a lot of extra candy—no one likes to see a miniature dragon in pain. And because Chuck carried Junior for most of the night, Chuck got some exercise, too.
(Velcro would have been helpful. Polyester dragon costume + leather coat = “Chuck! Junior’s sliding down your back again! Grab his tail!”)
As for me, Mulletween helped me answer a pesky existential question that's been plaguing me for the longest time. I now know what I want to be in my next life: a stray dog in this neighborhood. Thanks to the dark sanctity of the neighborhood shrubs, me and my pregnant bladder were able to mark at least five miles of Mulletville in complete modesty. You couldn't ask for a better set-up than dark hills lined with shrubs.
We had such a quaint night, it was enough to make me misty about moving. Could I have misjudged this blighted community? Could we have been BBQing alongside our neighbors for the last four years instead of cowering from their swearing, smoking, chicken-kicking ways?
Could have been so beautiful...could have been so right...
No. When I left for work this morning I found our pumpkins smashed to pieces on our front walkway.
Mulletville, you are officially and irrevocably dumped. Forever.
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