My daughter's school hosts an annual trunk-or-treat in their parking lot.  And every year, my husband and I dress up as Statler and Waldorf (aka the old guy muppets) and heckle from the back of his truck. 

This year, my husband couldn't make it.  So I grabbed a goat head mask from the basement (don't ask) and a giant plastic pumpkin for passing out candy, and I flew solo. 

On the way to my daughter's school, I stopped at a car wash; my floor mats were sticky, and I thought the interior could use a good vacuum.  So I consolidated all the belongings into the giant plastic pumpkin full of candy and let the car cleaners work their magic.  The wash really helped spiff up my old car, and I drove on to the school. 

When I arrived, I had less than a minute to find parking, get into my trunk, put on the goat mask, and get ready to pass out candy.  And I made it. I love my daughter, and I'd do anything to make her happy. 

I couldn't really pass out candy because it was too hard to see out of the goat's nose.  So I just told all the kids "Take whatever you want! Happy Halloween!"  It was all going smoothly.  Preschool, kindergarten, and 1st grade kids filed through, grabbed a piece of candy out of the pumpkin bucket, then walked ahead. 

But when the 4th graders came for candy, my pumpkin full of candy got a lot lighter.  Not just a little bit lighter; at least 5 lbs lighter.  They took all my candy, I thought. So I lifted up my goat mask to see, but the candy was still in the bucket.  What did they take?! 

Then it dawned on me.  When I consolidated all the belongings into the giant plastic pumpkin at the car wash, those belongings included some loose bottles of booze that I was returning to my restaurant.  The 4th graders had walked off with my bottles of Nocino (walnut liqueur). 

What happened next was a real low point for me.  I ran through the school parking lot in a goat head to grab my bottles of alcohol out of the hands of 10 year-olds.  I didn't even explain.  I just took them out of their hands and ran back to my car. As I drove home that day, I felt sheepish, in more ways than one. 

But as I sit here and type about it, I'm smiling.  Reader, the moral of my life lately is that there are a lot of highs and lows.  And sometimes, the lows become the highs.  As we face embarrassment and discomfort this week, let's keep in mind that time has a way of making us see things differently, making us grow, and making us not take ourselves too seriously.  Have a great week, and I'll see you next Monday. -Em