happy halloween. or happy birthday. or choose treat.

Um, happy halloween.

I passed this sad little pumpkin on my way to work tonight.
Poor little guy with a broken heart. A broken heart that, according to him, can't be fixed.

But I am going to say it can.

It just takes time, Little Pumpkin. Time, love, grace, and maybe you need to forgive someone--but we don't need to talk about that right now, if the pain is still too fresh. And judging from the size of the lightening bolt through the heart, I am going to say it is.

But you won't always feel this way, Little Pumpkin.

Oh, and do you know what else Halloween means?

Besides that no-brainer of a decision we have to make each time this year?

Really? Trick or treat? I get to choose? Cause I am pretty sure that most of the time, I don't. And I am also pretty sure that the tricks seem to be running rampant lately while the treats are a little less forthcoming so I am gonna do something crazy here and say TREAT, you moron.

Ahem.

Sorry about that.

Because Halloween means the birthday of someone who not only gave me his nose, but it would seem the keen sense of smell that accompanies a nose with that particular shape as well.

So, thank you for the nose.

And I really love smelling roses. And hate smelling body odor. And because of you, I get to smell each of those things very well indeed.

Wait. That makes it sound like my pop smells like either roses or body odor, when in fact I have never experienced him to smell like either. What I mean, is that I inherited my Legolas-like sense of smell from him.

Oh, and thank you for all the years of love, humor, weirdness, and fun.

You are the best, pop.

Happy Birthday.

And Happy Halloween to all the rest of you. May I just suggest that like me, you also choose treat when posed with the age old dilemma.

Cause it's kind of the only way to go, I think.