Do you have a love/hate relationship with specific holidays? My biggest one is Halloween. While I love the candy and seeing the fun costumes that my friends and their kids come up with, I dread dressing up (then usually love the outcome) and what I really, really, really hate is the scares. I am a scaredy-cat and a very easy target, so this is a very stressful time of year for me. Horror movies give me nightmares, blood sorta creeps me out, and I can't stand spiders. I also almost always tend to get injured at some point on Halloween.
Case in point - more than a dozen bruised toes/ankles from tripping over my own feet or my costume from about 1990 to 2010 and a handful of small burn scars on my arm from baking Halloween goodies. That is minor compared to the Halloween Mishap of 2010.
Halloween Mishap of 2010
It all started out on a cool, fall morning. I woke up, got ready for church, and headed off to prepare for a kick-off celebration following our morning worship service. All was going well, then I was asked to cut desserts. Can you guess that happened - yep - new scar forming on my left hand, just under my thumb. Stupid frozen red velvet cake.
After containing the 1/2 inch cut on my left-hand, it was a very pleasant afternoon. I made the mistake of saying outloud, "if that was it, I can deal with it!". Oops.
The clock strikes 6pm and here come the masses. Okay, the 20 kids who showed up at our doorstep (still, compared to the 5 last year, it was busy). The first hour of trick or treating goes by without a hitch. We have a great bonfire going, and I haven't caught a thing on fire. This is my night, I can feel it. (Do not tempt fate - seriously folks).
7pm rolls around and I go in for a few minutes to switch the laundry. Out come the towels and our whites. In goes the first load of darks. The laundry basket is overflowing with warm, fluffy towels that need to be folded. So I pick it up and make my way to the door. Seeing as the towels block my entire line of sight, I guess at where the middle of the door is - I am right! Phew. I am just about through when WHAM!, I am stopped by the metal door hinge, my finger, and a sharp plastic laundry basket. Well, guess what is jammed (I'll give you a hint - not the basket or the door hinge). The pain is intense, and the only way to get out of the laundry room is to unjam by finger by continuing to walk through the door. Holy heck was that painful. I get out of the laundry room and into our bedroom and drop the basket on the bed, collapse against a wall and cry. Like a little girl. (Oh, I did manage to grab a paper towel to contain the bleeding). My dog looks at me as if I am nuts. Finally, many choice phrases and tears later, I pull myself together, give up yelling for my husband and go into the bathroom to assess the damage.
A small hole later (yes a hole in my right-hand index finger knuckle) and an inch and a half long scratch later, I am washed up, bandaged up, and ready to get back outside. My husband gets a good laugh at my misfortune and we continue to pass out candy.
8pm - the trick-or-treaters are done and there were no tricks. Thank goodness. My finger is throbbing, but not swollen and the bandaids are doing their job.
10pm - the night is drawing to a close and I cannot wait to get to bed. There is still another load of laundry that needs to be done. I'm done with laundry, but unfortunately, my husband needs his clothes for class. So into the laundry goes our final load. That's when the earthquake happens. Okay - not a real earthquake, but when your washer goes off the wall (not literally) and starts jumping and shaking (yes literally), it feels like an earthquake (I imagine) and sounds like one too. We rush downstairs and adjust the laundry (it was too heavy on one side of the washer), and breathe a sigh of relief. That's three things! Bad things happen in three! HA!
11pm - the laundry is being folded. We are beat. I grab the laundry basket off of our bed to take back to the laundry room and the darn thing got me again. Again on my index finger, about an inch under the last attack. Not as bad as last time, but not fun, nonetheless. Still bandaid worthy and still bleeding. The bad things come in fours on good ole Halloween.