First Love

1989

Once all of my things had been moved back into my parent’s house, she insisted on taking me to a nice restaurant for dinner. I reluctantly agreed. The last several days – no, the last five years – had finally caught up with me. I was beyond hurt, beyond sad. I was close to dead.

She listened intently and compassionately as I spoke of the manipulations and psychological pain. Of how he had lied and cheated. Of how I believed that he really loved me. Of how the final straw was that after he had agreed to an egalitarian cohabitation he said, “Fuck you, Bitch! If you want the dishes done, do them yourself.”

Half way through the meal her demeanor changed. She was suddenly angry. It didn’t add up. I didn’t understand or ask. I continued eating and talking. Oblivious.

The waiter approached the table and asked if we wanted dessert. Very abruptly she said, “No. Check please.” Then to me, “I’m so sorry. I have something to tell you and it’s really bad.” I retorted, half joking, “Really. What could be worse than the fact that I just moved out of my apartment and left my boyfriend of 5 years – the man that I was convinced I was to marry…?”

“He’s here. With a date.”

Infuriated, I sent a glass of wine to their table. The waiter had agreed to point in our direction and tell the woman that it was from me – and that I had, until that very afternoon, shared an address and life with her date.

As the waiter pointed at me, I ephemerally remembered the dishes and knew my choices: to stay with him, marry, be beaten, kill, and go to jail for life or to get the life that I have now.

Halloween 2007

When I asked what he wanted to be for Halloween, Twig replied: "A Scary Monster". "Look at the costume we've got in your closet, a Dinosaur costume. Dinosaurs are scary monsters!" As I showed him the hand-me-down bright green Dinosaur costume however, the look on his face confirmed my suspicion. It would not fly. "No, Mommy, I want to be a scary Monster." "Um, Twig, what does a scary monster look like?" I asked. "It's white and black." "Oh, you mean a skeleton." "Yes, Mommy, a Scary Monster."

The next day we went to Target and picked up a $10 Scary Monster costume. While the price was right, it stings a bit that we've already outgrown cute.



Tuesday there was a Halloween party at school. It was lots of fun with a magic show and a pot luck dinner. No candy, just cupcakes after the meal. Quite pedestrian and all the better for me. Wood and I have never even considered how to "manage" Halloween. I guess we've figured we're not quite there yet.



However, on Wednesday, we were invited to trick-or-treat with some friends in their neighborhood. We obliged. Over a pizza dinner the question arose. "So, what's your rule about Halloween Candy?" "Only 1 piece" was my curt response. "Wow, that's harsh!" (giggle, giggle, giggle), and then they shared their "rule": The kids can eat as much candy as they want on Halloween. After that it's gone.



That's much better than the horribly limiting only one piece rule, so we adopted theirs. And it worked fabulously. Twig was extremely excited about trick-or-treating. He tromped the neighborhood, gathering way too many sugary delights, announcing each one as he received it, practically squealing with each new addition to his bag. Then, Twig was allowed to engorge himself with Laffy Taffy, Now and Laters, and a bit of Chocolate. And then it was over. But boy was he happy!