On Hallow’s Eve, I got hold of a Halloween toy, a little plastic bobble-head witch. The witch had a black hat and green face and red eyes that lit up and flashed. The red eyes were motion sensors, and any movement caused the witch to emit a long hideous laugh. When you picked it up, the laughter erupted into a chorus of freaky ghoulish witch laughter.
I showed the witch to Kayla at dinner, and she said, “That’s not annoying, and creepy.” This was all the information I needed.
For the next two weeks, the bobble-head witch ambushed Kayla all over the house. When she pulled flour from the shelf to make bread, the witch cackled. When she opened the freezer for a chicken, the witch flashed her red eyes. When she went to get towels out of the dryer, the witch screeched. When she reached to get a new roll of toilet paper, the witch, stuck in the cardboard toilet paper hole, cackled hysterically. At the end of a long hard day, when my lovely wife put her hand in the basket for the bubble bath soap, she grabbed a screeching screaming witch.
I kept accidentally ambushing myself, because I forgot where I hid the witch. I reached into the bread box and recoiled when the witch cackled. I reached into the cabinet for the salt shaker and the psycho red eyes lit up. But my technique improved considerably. Every possible nook in the house at some point featured the witch. First you heard the witch scream, then Kayla.
One day, I went to throw something away, and the witch cackled from the top of the trash can. How did you get in there? I made the witch more comfortable in Kayla’s underwear drawer.
The next day, when I took out the trash, I heard the witch, muffled, screaming from the bottom of the trash bag. After a thorough cleaning, the witch found her way under Kayla’s pillow.
Well, the witch is dead. A house did not fall on her. Someone chopped off her head. I don’t know who would do such a thing to a toy. I could not easily repair the witch, because the guts were ripped out, and nowhere to be found.
So, it is safe to go back into the house again…or is it?
My husband, Hokan, and I know only one Kayla and she was a tennis student of ours at the Rockport-Fulton Tennis School. If she is the same, please say hello. It sounds as though the marriage is off to a wonderful start w/bountiful humor! Congratulations and we look forward to purchasing your products at the Farmer’s Market and downtown.
Hahahaha!! I love it!!