Most of
my Halloweens have been very pleasant thus far. However, I have always felt
slightly robbed. While I should be grateful to my parents for letting me Trick
or Treat on a day meant for the Devil, I have always harbored a little bit of
bitterness towards them.
They
wouldn’t let me be a cat. Or a witch, or a ghost, or anything that was related
to the scary aspect of All Hallow’s Eve. I only wanted to be a witch one year
because all of my friends were going as witches and things like individuality
didn’t matter to my elementary aged mind. Year after year, I begged my
mother to make me a cat costume. I tried to argue that I could be a white
kitty, or I would say that I would be dressing up as my cat, so that maybe she
would see that I did not want to dance with the Devil by the pale, blue moon;
in fact, I just wanted to be a cat.
I was an
angel, an indian (or Native American if you’re going to be PC), a princess, a
popcorn box, even a chandelier (that was an unfortunate year, Mother, why
didn’t you stop me?). Never a witch. Never a ghost. Never a cat.
I still feel
like I got the last laugh. The Christmas before I left for college, I
managed to convince my parents to get me two kittens. Now while I am across the
country, those kittens are back home wreaking havoc on the lives of my parents,
mainly by waking them up in the middle of the night, bringing their prey into
the house, and just generally being crazy.
I have
declared justice for that sad little girl who never was able to don whiskers,
pointy ears and a tail. It’s in a very indirect way, but this is the first
Halloween that my kittens will spend at the house… Who knows how they will
continue to exact my vengeance?
-V
-V
