My apologies if you read the condensed version of this last year.
As I wrote last week, I absolutely love Halloween. In addition to the aforementioned reasons, Halloween holds a special place in my heart due to two momentous occasions.
Eight years ago, Ella and I moved into our very first home on Halloween. We had been living together for four-and-a-half years, moving from apartment to apartment to rental home. Finally, we had scraped together enough money to buy a nice little starter home in a new subdivision.
We moved boxes and furniture into the house all day long. That evening, we sat by the door, waiting for all the cute little Trick-or-Treaters. But since we were only the third house built in that subdivision, we only had two visitors all evening. But we still had fun. IN OUR VERY OWN HOME.
Life was good. Really good.
But we weren't married yet. So the next year, I decided to propose (yes, for those of you doing the math, we had been dating five-and-a-half years at this point). But I didn't want to just take her out to dinner and put a ring in a fortune cookie or something like that. So I decided to propose to her on Halloween.
I had it all worked out in my head: I would take a trick-or-treat bucket, fill it with candy, and hide the ring inside. Pure genius! And semi-romantic, right? I would have our next-door neighbor's two-year-old daughter deliver it to us under the guise that she got "too much candy." Like there is such a thing to a kid.
The only problem? I forgot to tell my neighbor about the plan. I went over there about 7:00 PM on Halloween evening and told him what I wanted them to do. But his daughter had already had her bath and was getting ready for bed. I begged and pleaded with him, and he finally agreed to put her costume back on and come over to our house (I did buy him a six-pack the next day).
I hurried home. Five minutes later the doorbell rang. My neighbor said, "Susie got a lot of candy tonight. We figured you guys might like some." After Ella made a fuss over Susie's Tigger costume, they left and we sat down. Ella said, "Let's see what we got!" She started rummaging through the bucket and found the ring box. She pulled it out and smiled. I opened the box, got down on one knee, and... well, I guess you can figure out what happened next.
Poor Ella. She should've just eaten the candy.
Happy Halloween, everyone!
The Scariest (Or Mushiest, Depending Upon Your Perspective) Halloween Story Ever Told
