Thursday, November 1, 2012
I drag my husband out and he all he got was a lousy dog bite
Never a Halloween enthusiast, I had to drag Matt out trick-or-treating last night. He tells me that even as a kid he thought Halloween was too much work since he could just eat candy from his kitchen. And yes, when he shared that little observation with me I did collapse on the floor in the biggest eye-roll in history. But I invited him nonetheless because I was worried that I wouldn't have enough arms and patience to keep two kids under five from running into oncoming traffic and gangs of goblins if I went out on my own.
There was one tiny complication though: some jerk dog in a pumpkin costume bit Matt. Yes, I dragged my husband out to trick-or-treat in the pouring rain and all he got was a dog bite on his back. He's ok, though it did really hurt. The dog managed to clamp his teeth down enough through Matt's jacket to leave teeth marks and a big bruise, though thankfully he did not break the skin. The owner of the dog, someone I see in the neighbourhood every week, behaved terribly. We had to yell at her to stop walking as I pulled up Matt's jacket and shirt to see the severity of the damage. She asked if he was alright, but did so trying to hide behind a tree down the block. We should have gotten her name and information but everything happened so fast. I'm going to speak to her next time I see her. This dog came inches from biting Shira, who was catching a ride home in Matt's arms. If the dog had bitten an inch to the left we probably would have spent last night at the hospital.
Our Princess Sleeping Beauty and Fairy Princess had a delightful Halloween nonetheless. We've been drawing ghosts for weeks and we even managed to carve out a pumpkin last night, who joined us for dinner on the dining room table. And then there was the bake sale at school on Tuesday and, of course, the candy. The girls asked to sleep with it last night and I expect that we'll hear a lot about it over the next day or two as we ration out a few pieces at a time. I also expect that by the weekend we'll offer to trade in their candy for a Barbie. We all pick our battles, no?
P.S. Sorry, Matty.