While preparing for Halloween this year, I thought back to a haunting trick-or-treating experience that really taught me something about life.
I was never the type of girl that wanted to be a princess, because all of my cousins I went trick-or-treating with were boys. I just wanted to fit in. But, one particular Halloween — many moons ago — I decided I was going to dress up as a fairy princess with a long, white dress. To say I was excited and nervous would be an understatement.
Once me and “the boys” — as my cousins Shane and Shawn were always referred to — met up, we jumped into the car with my parents and headed out to people’s houses to get candy.
Obviously, this was the good old days, before all of the creepers took over and made everyone terrified of their neighbors.
So, the boys and I went running through yards to see who could get to the door first and who could yell “trick or treat” the loudest. Before long, we got to the house of an elderly lady that had the best candy in the entire county. I jumped out of the car with Dad screaming to watch where I was going. But as far I was concerned, a little-chunky girl had to do what she had to do when it came to excellent candy.
After we were herded back into the car, Mom cranked up the heater. But, something had gone terribly wrong. There was instantly a smell that could only be one thing … the infamous killer of many shoes … dog poop! And guess whose white princess dress it was all over? The pudgy girl with the best candy — me!
I just wanted to disappear.
Little did I know that when Dad was yelling for me to watch where I was going, he meant because that sweet, little-old lady had around 20 terrible terriers running around everywhere, and well, you know what happens.
This scarred me for life, and I have never-ever wanted to be the princess again — as insane as that sounds.
But, it did teach me something that I will pass along to you. Always listen to your dad — he knows best. And most importantly, watch where you’re going, because you never know what you might be stepping into.
Nickie Simpson is a staff writer for The Reporter. She can be reached at email@example.com.