That Year My Parents Forgot About Halloween

I’m pretty sure it was fourth grade so that would mark it as 1979. My younger brother and I came home from school to a locked up house and no sign of our parents. That was not unusual. We didn’t have a key, so we used our array of tricks to gain access to the house – climbed through a window somewhere, probably the dining room.

We knew the drill. Eat some of the allowable snacks. Do homework. Watch TV. Wait for them to come home from whatever Quixotic quest they created that particular day. Our repertoire of dinner prep was limited at age eight (me) and six (my brother) to PBJ, cereal, and not much else. I don’t know if yet had a microwave, a tool that would revolutionize the semi-regular abandonment afterschool routine.

This time, it was different because it was Halloween. And while coping with the demons of neglect and disregard was a familiar ritual, gearing up to head out in costumes with bags and gear was a little beyond us. I was going dressed as a cowgirl. But finding flashlights, pillowcases, putting out the candy we were distributing,

**********************************************

This blog proudly built by snowflakes, social justice warriors, and the politically correct. Steel_City_Snowflakes

Join the Steel City Snowflakes with a one time or recurring investment in our projects.  Click the image  to see our current snowflakes.

Follow us on Twitter @Pghlesbian24

This post and/or others may contain affiliate links. Your purchase through these links support our work. You are under no obligation to make a purchase.