Don’t leave the vet in charge
I have a new Baking With Brody post ready to go that just needs a couple more pictures. I’ll have it up this weekend, just in time for Halloween. So in the meantime, a corollary to yesterday’s post:
One of my tasks as kindergarten room mom, a job I grudgingly agreed to despite my better judgment, is to decorate the booth at the kid’s Halloween carnival. I thought we would be provided with games and we would simply be in charge of manning it, but oh, no, we need to actually come up with an activity ourselves, and then execute it. Under a pop up tent we were in charge of procuring, decorating, setting up, and taking down.
I panicked, being one who does neither creative games nor camping. So I consulted my friend, the Brownie troop leader, who despite her always on top of things demeanor never manages to make me feel like the slacker I am.
“We did something great last year,” she said. “You make a coffin with different things in it and let the kids put their hands in it and guess what they are feeling. Like, grapes for eyeballs, spaghetti for intestines, that sort of thing.”
And that could work, but I figured hey, why not up the ante and make it a real house of horrors?
I thought of the things I could bring in from work:
- Brody’s testicles (I kept them. So sue me.)
- A glaucomatous eyeball I enucleated in a bloody surgery worthy of Wes Craven;
- a tapeworm
- A jar of ticks
- Pictures of heartworm disease
