Trick Or Treat

Probably because of my personality type, I go through serious food fads. This past week it has been Crunchy Nut Cornflakes. I just can’t stop myself. A while back it was Refresher Chews, before that Curley Wurley’s and every so often I have a serious Maltesers habit.
ATM is convinced that the body only craves something it needs and during pregnancy, what the baby needs.
During her first pregnancy, my sister craved 18 bag family packs of Quavers. I used to look at my her and think, ‘What the fuck does that child need with something that is, basically, Styrofoam packaging?’
ATM used to cheerfully tell me that she craved cough mixture throughout her pregnancy with me. It helped that she had a job in the dispensary at Boots.
‘Really Mum? That sugary shit that is full of Codeine?’
‘Yes!’
‘You took it the whole pregnancy?’
‘Yes!, by the mugful! Hehehehehe’.
‘So, you drugged me for 9 months, being born sent me cold turkey and you THEN expected me to sleep?’
It wasn’t such a laugh then, but did explain a lot!

I bought some bags of sweeties for the Trick or Treaters but I have a confession to make. I opened the bags and took out all the sweets I like! Fuck ‘em, I thought. They’re getting a freebee as it is.
So far I’ve had 3 pint sized Grim Reaper’s who went away with Parma Violets and a lolly. 2 pirates and a witch, who just stood there, until the girl said, ‘say trick or treat you dins!’. Ah, Pompey kids, got to love them.
I can remember asking my Grandfather if we could do a pumpkin one year. He came home with two Swedes (root vegetables, not Scandinavian types!) You have no idea how difficult they are to hollow out. I think he just wanted to see my Nan’s face when she came home and found us stabbing at them with her sharpest knives.

Today Mrs Next Door’s weirdness hit a new high. They have had a new back door fitted and for the first time their cat has to use it’s own door. We were pissing ourselves in the kitchen listening to her get more and more frustrated with the cat.

“Sammy, concentrate!” (fucking concentrate?!!)
Then as she got shrill,
“Samuel, you have got to learn this or you won’t be able to get in!”
She then picked it up and said in it’s face,
“You have GOT to learn how to use the catflap, now stop messing about.”

As anyone knows, there is NO training a cat. In fact you can’t OWN a cat. It decides whether it is going to stay with you or not and always has a ‘back up’ home in case you piss it off. Like, take it to the vet or shout at it for puking on the bed!

Got to say a HUGE congratulations to one of the Housemates. Mikey has got in to Leeds to do an MSC in Geology! Nice one mate. You deserve it.