Halloween, like most holidays, has far too many parts to it. Every time I think it is finally over, there is another excuse for copious photographs and activities. The latest of these was a "Trunk-or-Treat," (or, as Sissy calls it, Trick or Trunk) which is not to be confused with Trick or Treat. We all got dressed up in our costumes, including tights, which were tight. I have been voicing distaste with tight clothes lately. The clothes are not uncomfortable, but they are tight. Apparently, tights are inherently tight. How was I supposed to know? We all went to the church but, instead of worshiping, we ate food and paraded around as people other than ourselves. I enjoyed being Ba'Ma', but did there need to be so many pictures of it?
We then went outside and walked from vehicle to vehicle, asking for candy. I held Dada's hand, dragging my bag behind me. When we came to each trunk, I relinquished Dada's hand so I could hold my bag out in front of me. I never stood too close to people, and while I never appreciated them reaching out to me, I always quietly thanked them when treats were placed in my bag. This often led to people nearly falling out of their trunks in attempts to give me treats, but perhaps they should not have been so direct. I know not why it was called Trunk or Treat, as both were involved, not one or the other. I was allowed one choc'cha that night, and a pop the next day. I enjoyed both. I will suffer through more of this seemingly eternal holiday if it means more treats.
Halloween is coming. I do not recall the meaning of Halloween, although I am told that I have celebrated it previously. Luckily, Ella and Mama have read me many books to prepare me. I will teach you what I have learned.
Halloween is a night that requires a considerable amount of preparation. Witches (which are just girls with pointy hats and plenty of sparkles) and mneow mneows throw parties on Halloween night, which requires a considerable amount of preparation and cleaning. Baby mneow mneows are not very helpful in the preparations, and their parents do not believe in punishment. Pumpkins miraculously gain faces and join up in groups of five to sit on fences and have seances. An itsy bitsy one inevitably gets lost, but finds its Mama and Dada in the end. Everyone dresses up, and siblings do their best to frighten one another. There is a considerable amount of candy to be exchanged. None of this makes any sense to chickens, no matter how many times the piggy dressed up like a chicken tries to explain it to them. Somehow, none of this happens during the daytime. It all ends when the aforementioned personified pumpkins roll out of sight.
Dada also showed me a movie about Curious George the Ah-Ah and a scarecrow without a head, but that was much to frightening to be any help in explaining what I can expect from the celebrations. I do know, however, that I will be Batgirl for Halloween. It took extensive instruction to learn the difference between Batman and Batgirl, but I am now able to say both words.
Pumpkins are everywhere. I love pumpkins because, as far as I can tell, they are brightly colored, smooth, lightweight rocks. The only thing I do not like about pumpkins is picking them out.
Dada: Do you want that one?
Ada: No.
That one?
No.
What about-
NO!
I did fine with being on the ground, but being on Dada's head out there worried me that he would either trip over the vines or step on one of my potential prized possessions. I did fine picking pumpkins once I was on the ground once more (by which I mean that I wanted all of them).
I still do not know the purpose of the pumpkins, but I certainly enjoy seeing all of them outside of my house. There is Papa Pumpkin, Mama Pumpkin, Dada Pumpkin, and Baby Pumpkins.
Daddy and I recently went on another date. All day, I would hear about how Mama and Ella were going to go on a date to see a movie. When I began exhibiting frustration that I would not be joining them, I was informed that Dada and I would be going on a date, and I was quite excited. Not too excited, however, to have a nap, but when I awoke, Dada rushed in and asked if I wanted to go on an adventure. I pointed at myself, ensuring he meant that I was the one to join him on said adventure. When he stated that I was, I began jumping excitedly. We rushed out the door to sit in the car. The long drive, however, was worth it in the end. We arrived at a type of farm, but it, much like the one that I attended previously with rides, seems very much unlike the farms about which I read or sing. There were, animals, of course, but I was unaware that bunnies and kitties were commonly roommates on these farms.
There were also goats, pigs, sheep, chickens, a rooster, and ducks. I have heard that the elderly farmer, MacDonald, also has these animals, so I was less surprised by their presence. I also found the pigs far too excitable to stand near and still feel comfortable. The rooster once flew at me, too, and despite it being in a cage, I avoided him the rest of the time at the farm. Dada and I left the barn for a while to explore the rest of the farm. We went down a dark slide with very little warning, and while I stated it was enjoyable, I was emphatic not to return. In fact, I refused to participate in many of the activities the farm had to offer, including a corn maze (I find no enjoyment in being lost), a pit of corn (I don’t like playing in corn. It’s coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere), and rides. I, instead, stuck to things which could not, in any conceivable way, cause me harm. This reduced my activities primarily to pointing at pumpkins and taking photographs with Dada.
There were even things to put my face in so that I could become a ghost, but I was not tall enough. Luckily, I have a very willing photographer.
When I continued to refuse many of the activities, Dada assumed me to be hungry. I was, but that is not why I refused activities.
I finally found a safe of ducks to enjoy, despite their distance from me, and a goat that climbed.
I then became quite good friends with the goats, having a whole conversation with them. It only consisted of "Meh" but they seemed to understand what I was trying to relay. I quite enjoyed the goats.
I still had to check in with Dada occasionally, just to make sure I was safe.
Nothing the farm could offer, however, could match the enjoyment I found watching and conversing with baby kitties. Dada seemed confused by me stating that the bunnies were the mamas of the bunnies. This seemed obvious to me, so I do not understand his confusion. For the sake of clarification, the meowing you here in this video is my own. Oddly, the kitties never meowed back.
Mama asked me what I saw on my date. I said "Moo." I realize that I did not see a cow, but this seems odd, as all farms should have cows. Mama, for example, recently said we were going to the pharmacy and I, thinking she meant Farm-acy, excitedly said "Moo?" I was disappointed to find that there were no cows at the pharmacy, either.
