Jackson Free Press

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Trick or treat. Smell my feet. Give me something good to eat.

OK, rule one: Never, ever teach this chant to a school-age boy, especially of the Monkey persuasion. Yeah, it makes you feel like "cool mom" for a moment, but repetition soon makes one feel like "I'm going to take that whole bag of sugar and stick it in your pumpkin if you don't stop it now" mom. Being the cool—while somewhat neurotic—mother that I am, I decided to take advantage of the "No Halloween on a Melton School Night" decree and allow the Monkey the chance to trick-or-treat on a Saturday night.

After much weeping and gnashing of vampire teeth, my son had decided to dress as a ninja yet one more time. Mommy preferred the Elvis costume, or the George Dubya costume, but no way, no how. Neither Elvis nor George costumes include weapons (of mass destruction or otherwise), so for the seventh year running, I lost. To a ninja. With plastic throwing stars and a trident. I don't know what a trident is, but it is apparently very important when one is a third grader, especially if it glows.

Since we were cheater, cheater, pumpkin eaters living in Rankin County and all, I called my good friend, who is a Sweet Potato Queen and Belhaven resident, to secure parking in her driveway. When we arrived, Queen Pippa met us at the door with what appeared to be a handful of change, telling us to take it and run before anyone saw. She was shutting her door for the night because she had forgotten about that whole candy thing and was out of change. Second, she is an animal lover of the highest order, and she does not like children-types knocking on her door all the livelong night. It apparently gives her blind, anxiety-ridden poodle a bad case of the nerves, and she was fresh out of smelling salts. Then she shut her doors and turned out the lights. I wouldn't have known a person or a dog resided there.

Monkey and I walked the sidewalks on our own for a while, ringing any lighted doorbell, when we found a formation of parents and kids loading up for a hayride. Now, Monkey is quite strident, especially with a trident, and immediately asked, loudly, if we could hop upon said ride. I told him no, we don't invite ourselves and that was that, as I glanced around hoping another grown-up did not overhear his brazen disregard of manners.

We did, however, stay in stride with the multitude throughout much of the night as the kids (who I swear were also ALL NINJAS) yelled, burped and made fart noises. Somewhere around block three, right after a very tipsy woman had mistaken my child for her own (all ninjas look alike, doncha know), Monkey kicked off an overt pee pee dance, with the audible whisper, "Hey, ask that lady if I can use her bathroom." Well no, honey. Again, poor etiquette, even if she doesn't know you from her own offspring.

So we found ourselves faced with a urine dilemma. With tender assurance, I told Monkey to hold it, as we could get to Pippa's house quickly. "For God's sake, get both hands off the penis, because nobody wants to see that. Now run!"

Monkey made it to her porch panting, heaving and holding it in—hands-free and cross-legged like a gentlemen—only to find out that not only were lights out at Pippa's, but so was his chance to handle his business with the honor of a polyester ninja. Pippa was gone, and I finally lost my moxie.

Without another viable choice, I advised him to pee outside. I could see his diabolic eyes squinting, expressing his conflicted heart regarding this order. Perhaps this exhibition of submissive loyalty would result in much exaggerated respect and honor for his family. In other words, he could spell his name with urine in public, not only without fear of being disciplined, but also under the direction of his very own mother.

And so he did. We found a darkened corner behind a bush, and I spread my arms to shield my selfless warrior from the eyes of any foes, or perhaps the reckoning of any onlookers. The last thing we needed was a David Sanders piece stating that he witnessed someone else urinating on the streets of Jackson, even if the delinquent was a Brandon resident. I was pleased our misconduct went unnoticed. I told my little Brett Favre to hop in the car, because our evening was over.

Later that evening, I was awoken from the peaceful sleep of a mother to the sound of water splatting onto drywall. Alas, my honorable ninja had succumbed to the spoils of his war. The empty candy wrappers surrounding his fetal body proved his defiance of the one rule of trick-or-treating, which is "Listen to Your Mama." I'd told him not to eat any more candy. In that moment, I was certain that karma had gotten me at last. Going forward, I would advise to not allow your children to whiz in a Sweet Potato Queen's yard. Better just to ask the drunk lady for her house key.

-- by Emily Braden

Previous Comments

ID

89558

Comment

Emily, THIS IS BRILLIANT--you just made me scare my dog! Please, please, please write more! Cheers, TH

Author

Tom Head

Date

2006-10-28T14:51:52-06:00

ID

89559

Comment

Thank you. Muches.

Author

emilyb

Date

2006-10-28T16:34:04-06:00

ID

89560

Comment

Let me guess... Monkey is about, what, eight? :) This reminded me so much of our own shining son. Loved the article!

Author

Lady Havoc

Date

2006-10-29T01:00:24-06:00

ID

89561

Comment

Yep! He was eight last year. He's actually gone outside the ninja this year with the grim reaper. But with a very large, heavy sword. The bonus daughter has a GREAT scary, prom queen costume. Can't wait.

Author

emilyb

Date

2006-10-29T23:39:09-06:00

ID

89562

Comment

Hee! Our son was a ninja last year, too! This year, he's Batman. I swear, there were a jillion ninjas at Olde Towne Clinton last year. Our daughter has a 50's style outfit. Last year was her best costume, and it was her idea: she had a witch costume on, and she carried a medical bag and a stethoscope. She was a witch doctor. I was so proud!

Author

Lady Havoc

Date

2006-10-30T00:02:39-06:00

ID

89563

Comment

Witch doctor--I love it! LOL! Y'all have some genius kids. :o) Cheers, TH

Author

Tom Head

Date

2006-10-30T02:51:48-06:00

ID

89564

Comment

Well, our daughter does take after her daddy... :)

Author

Lady Havoc

Date

2006-10-30T06:03:44-06:00

ID

89565

Comment

Why does Jerry Jeff Walker's classic song "Pissing In The Wind" come to mind? Poor Pippa & CJJ, with their dogs and now Ninjas in the yard ..... Emily, I love your spin on the slice of life you observe around you & JFP needs more of that slice from you.

Author

The Observer

Date

2006-10-30T08:51:37-06:00

ID

89566

Comment

Thanks Observer. I'm working on that more. With a reference to Jerry Jeff Walker plus the compliment, I think you and I need a trip to Vermont. I think I love you. Love the witch doctor. This girl business is all new to me, and oh the stories I have with that. I love her to pieces. Even when she's trying to manipulate me into buying make-up. So, what do we do with the rain tomorrow night? Big umbrellas? I'd like to say this means I don't have to carve pumpkins this afternoon, but I don't think it does...even if they might get rained out.

Author

emilyb

Date

2006-10-30T11:36:47-06:00

ID

89567

Comment

Keep writing Emily. You're doing a good job. Your place, voice and niche are becoming clearer aren't they? I can't wait to see the power within you unleashed in all its glory. I'm still searching for how to properly use my sonorous voice, pulsating heart, righteous indignation, truthtelling, and power to piss of so many. Is this arrogance or what?

Author

Ray Carter

Date

2006-10-30T15:27:16-06:00

ID

89568

Comment

Ray: stop.

Author

Kingfish

Date

2006-10-30T15:44:05-06:00

ID

89569

Comment

We didn't have much time for the boy thing to be new to us before the girl came along. Our two are 13 months apart! It was pretty convenient, though: they both wore the same size diapers, used the same formula, and even potty-trained within one day of each other. Hubby was playing The Sims, and they both saw the character going to the bathroom. Next day, we no longer needed diapers. :) The boy thing can still be strange for me: I come from a family of girls. But it's pretty darn cool. Speaking of daughters and makeup: I'm still wondering if our daughter can wear a little makeup with her costume tomorrow. Her dad will freak!

Author

Lady Havoc

Date

2006-10-30T17:11:51-06:00

ID

89570

Comment

We're still a no make-up, except for Halloween of course. The boy will be covered in white pancake with blackened eyes, so she should be able to play it up too. But we are no make up on the rest because I want her to have good skin ;) That trick worked. Gloss only and it protects her pores. Ray, you forgot sanctimonious verbiosity and bombastic poignancy. Too early to spell, but I'm assuming your complimenting me. That's not arrogance, it's self involvement ;) Love ya..sho nuff.

Author

emilyb

Date

2006-10-31T09:15:05-06:00

ID

89571

Comment

eh, and my 25 year old husband dragged me around many stores in search of his 2006 halloween constume.. see, he's small enough that if in full costume, they can't tell how old he is and he blends in well with 4 foot kids. he doesn't really like any other festive day in the year except halloween and nothing will stop him from donning a disguise and going trick-or-treating! oh the humanity............!

Author

Jo-D

Date

2006-10-31T09:43:00-06:00

ID

89572

Comment

Of course, it was a compliment Emily. I'm one of your biggest fan. I've personally always hated Halloween. Isn't it the devil's/witches' holiday/celebration and I'm a Christian who refuses to drank the substance stirred by the devil's/witches' broomstick/pitchfork. I will leave work early today so as get home, turn off all the lights, and hide from all the little irritators begging for candy they don't need. Maybe I'll buy a sack or tub full of candy and leave it in the front yard and watch to see if anyone will take the whole thing or simply take a few pieces and leave the remaining for the other children. But I know what I would have done when a young lad - filled up my sack, all my pockets, tell all my friends, and gone home to get another sack. The little irritators better not egg muy house either else I'll call the police and have them arrested. My favorite holiday is spring/summer (and what a holiday it is) when the women start dressing properly again - you know stop wearing all those unnecessary layers of clothing. In school I always tried to make really good grade in the cold months because I had a problem concentrating in spring and summer.

Author

Ray Carter

Date

2006-10-31T10:23:14-06:00

ID

89573

Comment

We are the one piece family, but I walk with them too. He is taking a garbage sack this year in lieu of the typical Halloween bucket, so we're riding the greed fence. Turn your lights out Ray. I'll bring a Monkey by with a full bladder. BWWAAAHHHAAAAA. And what do you mean waiting for spring? Have you been to a grown-up Halloween Party lately? It's nothing if not an excuse to sexify a woman. Of course, we were Big and Carrie Saturday night.

Author

emilyb

Date

2006-10-31T10:43:17-06:00

ID

89574

Comment

Sexify is such a nasty word, like objectify, or is it? For clarity sake, when I see women making the world a happier and more beautiful place by their mere presence I don't see an object. I see beauty, attractiveness, heart, soul, elegance, charm, grace, symmetry, loveliness, comeliness, seemliness, fairness, adorn, blessing, estacy, and happiness. Houses, cars, and the world's other great objects or things can't even compare. I've never been to a Halloween Party with adults. Since I don't drank the devil's brew, blood, or whatever is served I look out of place like a real police officer or narcotic agent. One of the last times I hung out with a bunch of dranking or drunk men, a white man who drunk a little too much finally said to me "I'm tired of you sitting here looking like a mad Malcolm X." I love Malcolm but had a hard time seeing the compliment in that observation. How wild do the women get? Maybe I should start going! When is the next one?

Author

Ray Carter

Date

2006-10-31T11:21:19-06:00

ID

89575

Comment

I think he meant you looked too damn sober and uptight.

Author

Kingfish

Date

2006-10-31T11:26:11-06:00

ID

89576

Comment

All I know is Justin is bringing sexy back. I would think sober and uptight is a good rule of thumb for a mom with her son for the evening ;) I did not have a designated driver to get back to Rankin County, plus, someone had to be concious to clean the puke off the walls at 3 a.m. If you've ever read "Queen Bees and Wannabees" or seen the movie "Mean Girls"...Halloween is often the time girls feel it's okay to get away with dressing "slutty". You have to read the whole book to get the whole context considering it's talking about girl adolescence with the reality of being branded a slut and such. But just walk around any Halloween Store and look at the options for women. Bunnies and nurses and pimps...oh my. Even saw a CHILD SIZE pimp outfit this year. I do have to say that Saturday evening, we looked like Big and Carrie. Sunday morning we looked more like Anna Nicole and Howard K. Stern. I'm still holding out for Elvis and Pricilla. If Monkey won't do it, I always have hope with the husband. And I'll keep you in the loop for next year's parties.

Author

emilyb

Date

2006-10-31T11:33:50-06:00

ID

89577

Comment

I know that's what he meant. But I look out of place in those settings because I don't drink alcohol. I've walked in clubs and saw people hiding drugs and all kinds of things. I look like a cop according to many of them. Kingfish, I saw the wonderful column you did in the Northside Sun a couple of weeks ago. I didn't know it was you at first. Celebrate people we have even made Doc Matthias come mostly to her senses. You should see what she wrote a couple of weeks ago in the same paper. We got juice over here. WE CAN HEAL the sick over here. I hope Donna reads this. Back to Halloween, I bet I would look out of place even in a costume. My head is too big, literally too big. My grandchildren were excite last night about trick and treating tonight.

Author

Ray Carter

Date

2006-10-31T11:39:35-06:00

ID

89578

Comment

Y'all know what? It just occurred to me that I have been missing out on a lot by walking too soberly through life. Maybe I'll venture out some. You only live once, right? Can someone name some alcoholic beverages and drugs I can start out on? Don't want to start out at the top like one of my ex-clients whose first crime was bank robbery. The judge said "Son you decided to start out at the top, didn't you." I nearly cried laughing so hard. I looked ay my client and he was laughing too. I got an acquittal and he went on to college in Texas.

Author

Ray Carter

Date

2006-10-31T11:52:25-06:00

ID

89579

Comment

I recommend the Grace Kelly Martini at Schimmell's on Houserocker Blues Night.

Author

emilyb

Date

2006-10-31T13:01:21-06:00

ID

89580

Comment

Thanks but no thanks Emily. I like making drinkers feel uncomfortable around a non-drinker. I may have a couple of glasses of long island iced tea before greeting the trick- a- treaters.

Author

Ray Carter

Date

2006-10-31T14:26:13-06:00

ID

89581

Comment

Ray: when did you represent Melton in Texas?

Author

Kingfish

Date

2006-10-31T15:14:10-06:00

ID

89582

Comment

Kingfish who said I represented Melton in Texas? What are you talking about? Cue me in.

Author

Ray Carter

Date

2006-10-31T15:49:13-06:00

ID

89583

Comment

Ray, bud, I'll hang around and not-drink too if it'll make you feel any better. Hell, if a guy has enough too many he might call me a mad Malcolm X. And I like your comment here: For clarity sake, when I see women making the world a happier and more beautiful place by their mere presence I don't see an object. I see beauty, attractiveness, heart, soul, elegance, charm, grace, symmetry, loveliness, comeliness, seemliness, fairness, adorn, blessing, estacy, and happiness. Houses, cars, and the world's other great objects or things can't even compare. Women are beautiful. If I said otherwise it wouldn't be progressive and feminist; it'd be plain old fibbing. Cheers, TH

Author

Tom Head

Date

2006-10-31T15:53:31-06:00

ID

89584

Comment

Ray, I think Kingfish is telling another Dry 'Fish Joke.

Author

DonnaLadd

Date

2006-10-31T16:27:28-06:00

ID

89585

Comment

Yeah, Tom. I thought I'd throw in that description in an effort to win back some of my female friends and fans I've lost over the last couple of weeks to a month. Since I have met you Tom, I happen to know you exude a very friendly, engaging, caring, and non-threatening presence (good characteristics I often wish I had). It's real easy to like you. On the other hand, I don't look friendly, engaging or non-threatening. I only smile when I see or hear something funny. I try not to be judgmental but I imagine my demeanor say something all together different. Also my instincts are keen and I can rarely ignore them for very long. The incident happened at a club that one of my friends owned. My friend grew up in Newburg, New York and went to boarding school before Darmouth College. He had a whole different attitude and personality than me. I think the white gentlemen wished I was more like my friend but I could only be me. I'm now thinking about passing out beer tonight to the kids. What harm could a lite beer do?

Author

Ray Carter

Date

2006-10-31T16:28:14-06:00

ID

89586

Comment

was making a bad joke about you representing a guy who went to texas. ;-)

Author

Kingfish

Date

2006-10-31T16:49:04-06:00

ID

89587

Comment

Oh Fish. I didn't think about that.

Author

Ray Carter

Date

2006-10-31T16:56:04-06:00

ID

89588

Comment

Lots of little trick-a-treaters came by my house last night. One boy about 10 years old and working alone came late and all I had left was some some lite beer I had been giving the adult trick-a-treaters. He looked really pissed off and so I passed him one of the light beers. He took it, looked at the label then said "Mister, ___, ____, I don't drank __ ______ light beer." I backed up into my fighting stance and he immediately hit his chest a couple of times exclaiming "what you want to do, Mister. I'm ready." I got scared for my family and offered to drive him to the Chevron Station at Highway 55 to get some hard or real beer. He accepted and I bought him a six pack and some cigarettes while there. For those who don't know, this happened in Ridgeland, not Jackson.

Author

Ray Carter

Date

2006-11-01T10:35:21-06:00