It all started with the Teen Wolf marathon with my teen this summer. Every Monday when the new season started
we I would put the werewolf mask out on the porch. Sometimes it was on the end of the rake, pressed against her window to spook her when she finally would wake up at noon. Cujo, my best dog ever, because he is a statue, got to be the werewolf a couple of times, even Chef Piggy.
Last week, I thought it would be fun to let my swinging bunny be the werewolf. I giggled the whole time I put the mask on the bunny. I must tell you that the bunny is quite small, swinging from a tree limb, and well, the mask really covered it well.
I wasn’t really thinking of the were-bunny-wolf later in the day as I sat on the porch enjoying a good book and a good cup of kona when I noticed a lot of passerby-s slowing and staring. I thought maybe someone had run over another squirrel and went to look on the other side of the hedges. That’s when I saw that the werewolf mask was facing the house for my viewing pleasure and that from the road it may well have been some poor human being I had decapitated and hung the head as a trophy, oops! I rectified that problem by turning the mask around, which gave me another bout of the giggles and started me on path to spooky ooky…
We had the grandbabies this weekend, they giggled at the were-bunny and we had an awesome swordfight that ended in a dragon slaying right prior to them digging for snow princess treasure in the front garden because pirate treasure is for boys. We realized that the girls were out-growing their jammies, so we made plans for jammie shopping on Saturday.
Since my diabetes hasn’t been bothering me what with all the JERFing to my meter and the stuff that could probably be called exercise if I were so inclined, I mentioned something about the spooky ookies giving me giggles and Sir Hot-a-Lot said “You can get what ever you want, just not spider webs.” “Ok” I said, with my best sad puppy face and he said “Ok, you can get some spider webs.”
I took a break today, spooky ooky is hard work, but filled with giggles and the occasional growl of frustration when you realize that spider web you are pulling is sticking to your arm and that part of it is not really fake at all. Sprinting into the yard from the porch with arms flailing to get the sticky mess off of the arm and now out of the hair and off the face because flailing makes things like that happen, is a really good work out by the way…