Yep, yesterday was Halloween. Dagmar and I threw caution to the wind and went to watch small children. You’d think we’d know better by now than to go try to see kids when they’re all jazzed up on sugar and chocolate, but for some reason we thought it was a good idea. So, off to LeMars we went.
We made it to the first intersection. “Oh,” said my beloved bride, “Ve have to go to de drugstore before we go to LeMars. You’re out of tummy pills.” So, we took a right instead of a left and went to said drugstore for the above-mentioned tummy pills. “Okay,” I said, pills in hand. “Off we go!” We fought our way through the ten-to-five traffic and eventually found ourselves in Hinton, some ten or twelve miles north of Sioux City. “Oh,” I said. “We need gas.” That earned me a fairly dirty look from my beloved. “Vell, hurry up, then,” she said. “I vant to see the kidlets while dey still have their scary costumes on.”
I pulled into the first gas station on the left. You know the one… It took about four and a half seconds to get fifteen dollars worth of gas in my car, another two minutes to run inside and pay, and about half an hour to get back on the highway. (Trains, grain trucks, and what passes for rush-hour traffic in Iowa all conspired against us.)
We caught up with my brother, Cory, and his family at their friend’s house. Out of the car bolted the hippie and the Austrian. We were immediately attacked by Batman Hunter and Princess Peyton, and what appeared to be a dustmop, minus the handle. After taking the appropriate pictures of the two kids, and figuring out that the dustmop was really a Shih Tzu puppy (“It’s supposed to give the kids a sense of responsibility,” explained my brother, nodding wisely) we started looking around for Maddie, our Goddaughter. About that time a very small black and white cow wandered down the sidewalk, wailing in misery, little tail waddling.
Evidently, Maddie doesn’t like being a cow for Halloween.
The poor child planted herself in one spot and wailed, cried, sniffed, snuffled, and generally made her unhappiness known throughout the neighborhood the whole time we were there. Meanwhile Hunter and Peyton were having a ball chasing each other and the dustmop doggy around the yard, deftly avoiding and ignoring the unhappy sister. It was quite the sight…
After a bit, things calmed down a little. We figured out that the dustmop puppy’s name was really Maizie, and that she is a very nice doggy indeed. (I had to fight the urge to call her “Corndog” all night. You know… “You call her Maizie, I call her Corndog.” I’m sure a few of you out there are old enough to understand that.) Oddly enough, not only did Cory and Dawn get a Shih Tzu Sunday, but fellow Clam Tim and his wife Janet also got a Shih Tzu on Sunday. I think I missed the memo.