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I had to wait til payday to order them and wasn’t sure just
what bills I was going to have to juggle, but decided to throw down the dough.
They came in two shipments--one for the twins and one for Lane. The twins’
package showed up on Thursday and was delivered to the office. Unfortunately,
since my legal name change the office didn’t believe it was the right person so
they sent it back with the driver. I don’t even want to go into the multitude
of calls and lies given and taken from the delivery company. They couldn’t
locate the driver, they couldn’t find the package, it was a nightmare. The
package still has not come, but Amazon refunded one costume and sent me a
replacement of the other. I can buy Porter’s in town—just ten bucks more.
I sat the kids down and explained we were going to have a
Plan B as the costumes definitely weren’t going to be here by Saturday for
their school Spooktacular. Bless their little hearts they dug through my
costume box and found old costumes and dress up stuff. Madison put on her 49ers
cheerleader outfit and Porter picked out a “ninja” costume. They were such good
sports and didn’t complain at all, even when Lane’s cute little muscle man
Captain America showed up.
When we were walking to the school event, people were
passing us and Lane said, “Mom, no one even recognizes me.” He was so pleased
that he was such a convincing Captain America. I wanted to say that’s because
no one would recognize you if you didn’t have your costume on, but I didn’t
want to ruin his illusion that no one really believed he was the real Captain
America.
We went to Spooktacular at their elementary school. I was so
disappointed they were charging for breathing at the event. The kids really
wanted to go to the Haunted house so we stood in line for 45 minutes waiting
for that. And, it cost me 8 bucks for all of us. I only had 20 bucks with me so
we had to budget, budget, budget. Halfway through the spook house, Madison had
fallen to her knees in terror. Screaming, crying, and not moving one bit. We
were holding onto a rope with a group of people and I could not get her to
move. I had to pick her up and carry her.
Porter lasted almost until the end and then he had a break
down. He usually gets upset if Madison is crying or hurt. She has no feelings when
it’s happening to him. Both of the twins were frozen with fright and screaming
at the top of their lungs. I’m trying to get them to keep moving. It’s
impossible for me to hold both of them, plus I had Lane to worry about who was
leisurely traipsing through the maze as if he were looking at art in a museum.
Somehow, we finally get to the end and have to exit out a
door that happens to be close to the line of people that are waiting in line to
go in. There were literally at least 100 people standing there when we came out
so I’m guesstimating 200 hundred eyeballs were on us. I can’t walk—one has one
leg and one has the other. They are STILL screaming in terror with tears
running down their cheeks. It takes me awhile to get them to SHUT UP! I keep
telling them we’re outta there so calm down. It’s over and I can’t believe I
paid eight bucks for this. Lane is walking nonchalantly behind them as a little
miniature Captain America with his palms face up saying, “What? What guys? It
wasn’t that scary. It's even real.”
They vowed to never go to a haunted house again. Madison
said, “I knew it was going to be scary, but I thought it was going to be like,
‘Boo!’ scary.” After that we bought shaved ice and they calmed down. With our
remaining three tickets we bought two slices of pizza. The kids had more fun
playing on the playground with their friends. Porter had to go to the bathroom
and so I escorted him, but not before leaving strict instructions with Madison
to watch Lane. Right before Porter was done, I was scanning the playground to
check on my other two. I see Lane in an open area with a police officer
squatted down next to him. Oh my gosh! I think. Lane is notorious for
screaming, “Mom!” very loudly when he can’t find me. He’s not crying he just
thinks if he yells loud enough I’ll hear him from China. I grab Porter’s arm
and tell him I have to run to get Lane. I’m running through the playground and
see another police officer show up. Now one of them is on the radio and they’re
looking around for an irresponsible mother.
In my marathon trek, I pass Madison leisurely sitting on the
monkey bars with her friend watching the whole scene unfold. As I run by I
yell, “Madison I told you to watch him!” I am watching him Mom, he’s right
there. That girl.
I run up to the police officers and try to explain I was at
the bathroom with one of my twins and saw him from afar. They were really cool
about it and cancelled their call to Child Protective Services. I asked Lane
what he said to them. He said nothing. Well what did they ask you? He said they
wanted to know what my Mom’s name was. I told them, “Whizabith Lane.” And did
they ask your name? Yea, I told them my name was Lane. Okay, so now they think
his name is probably Lane Lane. He said, “I didn’t tell them your name was Mom
because they wouldn’t know who that was.” He smiled smugly as if he was just
that smart.
On the walk back to the car, Lane started singing his own
version of Taylor Swift’s song:
And twins will never ever ever ever go to back to haunted
houses again
Cause first she screamed and then he screamed and I just
laughed
Oh we-ee-ee will never ever ever ever go back to there again
The twins were disgruntled and said, “Stop singing that
song, Lane!” So he started the verse again.
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