I took at least twenty pictures.
“Can we do that again?”
Across the lawn, Elaine was still glaring at her toilet-paper-covered skeletons.
After the judging, Owen and I helped remove the paper, although he couldn’t stop giggling whenever he looked at the “OLD HAG” sign.
That evening, he sat beside me on the couch.
“Mom, can we do that again next Halloween?”
“Absolutely not.”
He sighed.
“What about eggs?”
“Besides,” I added, “I’ve already taught you everything I know about toilet paper.”
Owen grinned. “What about eggs?”
I stared at him. “Don’t even think about it.”
He burst out laughing.
And I decided that was a much better sound than hearing my son cry over a ghost.
