Carter and Beckham attended their first Halloween party together at my parent’s ward. (Where they have no primary children, so they have to borrow other people’s.) Beckham was a little metrosexual cowboy (leopard print chaps and a gold belt buckle) and Carter was his favorite cartoon character, Scooby Doo. Just to reinforce the fact that Scooby Doo is a dog, Carter went around licking everyone, and barking. So we added a new mantra to the Stranger Danger curriculum. “Try not to lick people you don’t know. Only lick friends and family members.”
The night was going pretty well, with Carter doing a hilarious turn at Monster Twister, but then the cookie decorating started. You may know that our kids are slightly OCD when it comes to sticky things on their fingers. They both tried to participate, and then promptly began screaming; Beckham unintelligibly, and Carter “GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!” Fittingly, it was just like a scene out of the exorcist, thus kicking off the Halloween season.
Lately we haven’t had a kitchen, due to our nasty remodel. The good news is I finally have an excuse for not cooking. (I never cooked before, but now I have an excuse). So I’ve been treating myself to takeout from Citrus Grill. The Southwest Chicken Wrap with soup. Every day.
It’s now gotten to the point that the person on the other end of the phone asks my name first, and when I say, “Ashton”, he replies, “Oh yeah. Southwest wrap, right? Do you just want me to make you a daily standing order?”
No! You never know, I may want to change my order. I may not order at all!
To which he replies: “Okay, we’ll just talk about it tomorrow. Same time.”
“Talk to you then," I say.
I think I need to start coming up with fake names. And yet my humiliation doesn’t deter me from calling every day. I still show up, every night. I give my name “Ashton” like it’s an alcoholics anonymous meeting. Chicken wraps are yummy.