Trick or Treat?

 

          “Are we going to trick-or-treat at Grandmoms’ & Grandpa’s house?” a small voice asked from the doorway.

          Without turning from the slippery one-year old in the bathtub she was kneeling over, Trixie answered, “That’s where we’ll start and where we’ll end up, Win.”  Blowing upward to make the damp curls on her forehead move out of her eyes, she concentrated on hanging on to her wiggly and slippery younger son.  Win had been much easier to bathe than his little brother – he hadn’t liked the water nearly as much.  “We should’ve named you Jonah instead of Noah,” she muttered, “You are so like a fish.”

          Big blue eyes, so like her own, looked at her as her youngest son grinned up at her.

          “Mommy, did you know that Noah is like a jack a’ ladder?” Win queried from behind her.

          “No, sweetie, how’s that?” Trixie asked as she grinned back at the baby and quickly soaped up Noah’s back and tummy as he hung over her arm, trying to reach the bottle of bath gel on the side of the tub.

          “’Cause he’s only got 4 teeth & they’re right in the front.  That’s just how I made my jack a’ ladder at school today.”

          “Actually, he has 6 teeth, Win.  The other just aren’t in all the way yet.”  ‘Thank goodness,’ she thought ‘those four are painful enough…I can’t wait until I get him all the way weaned!’

          “Oh, well, that’s what his costume should be this year – a jack a’ ladder.”

          “That’s what he was last year, remember, when he was a little baby. And it’s jack o’ lantern.” Some of Win’s pronunciations were scarily like his Uncle Bobby’s at that age.

          “Oh, yeah, jack a’ lander.  Hey, I was a pirate…aargh, matey!”

          At his brother’s pirate yell, Noah sat down abruptly in the tub, startled.  He screwed up his face to scream and then realized that it was just his big brother.  The scream changed to a laugh and he started to splash. 

          “Okay, little monster, bath time is over,”  Trixie said, ducking her head to keep the water from her eyes, yet still hanging on to an arm, “Win, can you hand me Noah’s towel?  It’s on the counter behind me.”

          “Sure, Mommy, no problem.”

          As she lifted the suddenly dead-weight toddler from the tub & stood up, she asked, “You’re ready to go, right, Win?”

          “Almost, Mommy.”

          “Good. Aunt Honey and your cousins should be here pretty soon.”

          Turning with the now howling and stiff Noah, his daily after-bath performance, she automatically reached for the towel her oldest son was holding.  Catching sight of him for the first time, the towel dropped unnoticed from her hand.

          “WINTHROP MATTHEW FRAYNE!   WHAT ON EARTH…” her voice died down as she looked at the five year old boy in front of her.

          His “almost ready” consisted of his cowboy boots and his cowboy hat – nothing else.

          His green eyes suddenly filling with tears, he mumbled something under his breath.

          “What did you say?” Trixie’s voice lowered a few decibels.

          “I couldn’t decide which underwear I wanted to wear,” he repeated in a subdued tone, “ I was going to wear Star Wars, but that doesn’t go with being a cowboy…neither does Superman, Spider-man or Batman…” his voice dwindled off as he saw the expression on his mother’s face.

          Opening her mouth to tell him to get into his room and get clothes on immediately and it didn’t matter what underwear he wore, just as long as he had some on, her expression suddenly changed.  Looking down at the still dripping, still hollering and still naked child in her arms, Trixie saw a pale yellow stream making contact with her jeans.

          “Oh man, Mommy, he’s going potty all over you,” Win exclaimed rather happily; maybe this meant he’d be off the hook.

          “James!  Bathroom!  Now!”

          Hearing his wife call, Jim sighed.  He’d been at his desk trying to finish grading some essays from a fifth grade class.  He’d heard most of the commotion from upstairs and knew he should’ve gone up sooner to help, but he was on the last paper.  Realizing that Trixie’s voice was at the breaking point, he dropped his pen and took the stairs two at a time.  As he turned at the bathroom door, he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

          The bare backside of his eldest was the first thing he saw, followed by the red face of his wife and the even redder face of his younger son.

          He walked in and put his hand on Win’s shoulder.  “Win, why don’t you hurry in and finish getting dressed.  Scooby Doo underwear will work – they solved some mysteries that involved cowboys.”

          “That’s right, Daddy, I’d forgotted about that…I think there was  a ghost in that one too…that’s perfect for Halloween night.  Hey, Dad,” he called over his shoulder as he walked down the hall, “Next year, let’s find me some Halloween underwear.  Won’t that be cool!”

          A scream from Noah covered up any response Jim might have had to that remark.  However, it wasn’t a scream of pain or anger, it was a scream of laughter as the little boy looked at the yellow puddle he’d made on the floor.  Not even daring to look at Trixie’s face, Jim reached for the baby and towel and said, “I’ll take care of Noah.  His costume is on his bed, right?”

          A gurgle of sound came from Trixie’s throat as she tried to answer.   Taking it for an affirmative, Jim went out the door, “Sweetie, why don’t you go get changed.  I’ll make sure Win finishes getting ready and then we can go.”  Glancing at her, Jim saw that she nodded as she knelt down to dry up the puddle on the floor with a discarded towel from Win’s earlier bath.

          Moments later, Trixie walked into her room. She quietly shut the door behind her, even though she felt like slamming it in defeat, and went into the adjoining bathroom.  Stripping off her wet clothes – between bathing the two boys and Noah’s potty accident, she’d have to change down to the skin – Trixie looked in the mirror to see if she’d ripped all her hair out in frustration yet or not.  Nope, still blonde curls.   Back in her room she quickly pulled on dry underwear and then tried to find something else to wear.  She had planned on wearing a black sweater that had a jack o’ lantern on the front…she’d found it a couple of years ago when shopping with Win and he thought it was the coolest shirt she owned and couldn’t figure out why she didn’t wear it all the time.   Unfortunately, the cat had also found it irresistible and had kneaded it rather thoroughly that afternoon and snagged it so badly that she couldn’t wear it. Moms or Honey might be able to salvage it, but not tonight.  Rummaging around in her closet, she found a black turtleneck, maybe that would work.   And of course, the black socks with pumpkins on the cuffs.  Another must have for Halloween that Win thought should be everyday attire.  Now all that was left were jeans.  Subconsciously she’d been avoiding that because she knew what she’d find.

          Ten minutes later, Jim came into their room, feeling quite pleased with himself because he had both boys in their costumes and ready to go trick-or-treating. They were now playing happily in the family room while watching “The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.”  His pleased smile dropped when he walked into their room and found Trixie curled up on the bed in a black turtleneck and Halloween socks, with her eyes closed.

          “Umm, Trix, are you ready?”

          “Do I look ready?” she said softly.

          “Well, if we were having a party without the boys, I’d say yes, but…”

          A tiny smile crossed her lips, to be quickly replaced by a frown, “I can’t go.”

          “What do you mean, you can’t go?” Jim asked.

          “I don’t have any jeans to wear.”

          “You must have something,” he answered, trying to figure out how she couldn’t have anything to wear when there were jeans on the shelf in the closet.

          Sitting upright she glared at him, “No, I don’t.  I have two pairs of jeans that fit decently.  One of them got chocolate frosting all over them this afternoon when Win “forgotted” that he’d been frosting cookies in class and grabbed me to tell me he wasn’t ready to come home yet.  The other pair just got drowned by Noah, who, by the way we should’ve named Jonah.”

          Not clear on what her last remark meant, Jim sat down on the edge of the bed next to his irritated wife.  “What about the jeans in the closet?”

****

          Continuing to glare at her incredibly intelligent, yet incredibly dense husband, she explained. “James, those jeans have not fit me since Win was born. They will never fit me again.”

          Confused, Jim asked, “Well, if they’ll never fit you again, why do you still have them in your closet? Why don’t you donate them or something and get some new ones?”

          “Because I keep hoping that a miracle will happen and that one of those pairs of jeans will fit. I hate getting rid of them because it seems like such a waste of money. And if I get rid of them then I’ll have to go shopping for some new jeans. And I hate shopping!”

          Still confused, Jim said, “So, you’ve only had 2 pairs of jeans to wear for the past 5 years?”

          “Yes. No. Oh, I don’t know! It’s all your fault though,” Trixie snarled. “You and your huge babies – you know what babies that are over 9 pounds do? They make your hips change in ways that they will never come back from!” A tiny sob escaped as she flopped back down on to the bed and pulled the pillow over her face.

          Feeling way out of his realm of understanding, Jim went over and flipped through the hangers in the closet. He found a skirt that he knew Trixie actually liked, but he didn’t know if it was in the same category of the jeans or not, but he figured it was safer not to ask. And with the temperatures dropping and how it had been spitting snow earlier in the day, a skirt was not something she was going to want to wear.

          Turning from the closet, he started looking through her dresser drawers. Hearing what he was doing, she mumbled, “It’s no use, there’s nothing in there either.”

          With a sigh, he sat back down on the bed next to her and gently rubbed her back. “Sweetie, I think it’s time that you go shopping. I know you hate it, but if all your clothes are making you unhappy, then it is time to get some that you like and are comfortable.”

          A moan escaped as Trixie flopped on to her back. “I know, but I hate going shopping and I never know what actually looks good or not. It’ll look good in the store and then I get home and it just doesn’t.”

          “I bet Honey or Di would go shopping with you.”

          The pillow connected forcefully with his head. “I’m sure they would, but I don’t know if I could survive that.”

          Rubbing the side of his head and scooting a little further away on the bed, Jim tossed out another suggestion, “What about your mom? You and Moms haven’t had a day together that didn’t involved kids or gardens or cooking in ages.”

          There was less force behind the pillow this time; he wasn’t sure if that was because she liked that idea better or because he had moved.

          “Maybe. Not that it will do me much good – they won’t fit for long and then probably won’t fit after the next one.”

          “I’m sure they’ll fit for awhile. And the next one won’t be for awhile.”

          Trixie snorted and muttered something as she rolled off the bed.

          “What was that?” Jim asked, thinking he’d heard her but not sure if he should be excited or concerned.

          Stomping over to the closet and pulling out the skirt he’d looked at a few minutes before, she replied, “I said, try 7 months.” She pulled on the skirt and then opened a drawer of the dresser and pulled out some black tights. Slamming the drawer she continued, “So buying more jeans isn’t something I really want to do since they won’t fit in another month.”

          She turned to Jim with tears in her eyes, “So that awhile isn’t really that far away.”

          He grabbed her in a tight hug. No wonder she was an emotional mess.

          “Really?” he asked with his face in her blonde curls.

          “Really,” she replied.

          “Are you happy about this,” Jim asked softly as she turned away and picked up the tights she’d tossed on the bed.

          “Actually, I am. I’m just pretty nervous.” Sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling the tights up her legs, she continued, “I hadn’t been feeling great earlier this week but didn’t say anything because I knew I was having my annual exam yesterday. The doctor had them do a pregnancy test on my urine sample because I couldn’t remember when my last period was.” Standing up to grab the skirt and pull it on, Trixie turned back to Jim, “It was positive. I was going to tell you last night, but with carving pumpkins and baths, there was just never time.”

          It had been crazy last night – and she’d fallen asleep lying next to Win in his bed reading Peter Rabbit to him. She’d woken up around 2 in the morning and crawled into bed only to be awoken by Noah at five with a wet diaper and ready to go for the day.

          Before Jim could respond, they heard the downstairs door slam and a familiar voice call up the stairs, “Yoo-hoo, anyone home?”

          Win’s little voice called out, “Aunt Honey! Timmy!”

          Jim gave Trixie another hug, “I’m sorry about the jeans dilemma, but I’m not sorry they aren’t going to fit for awhile longer. Is that okay?”

          “Yes, because that’s pretty much how I feel. Though I will tell you this, Noah is going to get cranky ‘cause he’s getting weaned completely rather he likes it or not!”

          Jim chuckled. “I’ll head down and watch the kids and I’ll send Honey up here. Maybe she can help you with the clothes dilemma.”

         

          A few minutes later Trixie was happy to see her best friend and sister-in-law walk through the door.

          “A skirt?” Honey raised her eyebrow as she flopped down on the bed.

          “My two pairs of jeans were both casualties of Hurricane Win and Tropical Storm Noah – frosting and pee – that’s what little boys are made of,” Trixie replied ruefully and flopped down on the bed too.

          “Ugh! Well, if it makes you feel any better, Timmy decided to “holp” today and gave the dog a bath – outside in a flower bed because ‘Momma he rolled in the dirt and got dirt in his fur so I ‘cided to holp you and rinse it out.’

          “So, we can add mud and dog fur to the frosting and pee that little boys are made from,” Trixie said sarcastically. 

          “Maybe little girls are made from something different?” Honey said with a grin.

          “Well, if we take out the pee, the frosting, mud and dog hair probably summed me up at Win’s age.” Trixie laughed ruefully, “But let’s just blame that on the fact that I had two older brothers.”

          Both women laughed, Trixie’s tales of her tomboy childhood chasing after Brian and Mart were legendary.

          As she followed Honey down the stairs to their sons and husbands, Trixie thought, “Well, maybe in 7 months we’ll find out what little girls are made of if this one is a girl…but with two older brothers, is she even going to have a chance?!” With a sigh, she grabbed her coat and followed the others out into the cold October evening. Jim grabbed her hand and squeezed it as he held Noah in his arms. Win and Timmy ran ahead to the family vehicles with Honey and Dan.

          “Did you tell Honey,” Jim whispered.

          “No, you know I always tell Moms first,” Trixie responded. “Well, after you that is.”

          Jim laughed softly, “You never tell Moms. Moms takes one look at you and guesses. Is that why you’ve steered clear of Crabapple Farm all week?”

          Blushing in the darkness, Trixie nodded her head, “Yeah, because I was in denial and she’s always right, dang it. With all of us Bob-White girls.”

          Ten minutes later the group entered the stretchy walls of Trixie’s childhood home. It had taken longer to load the three boys into their respective cars and carseats than the drive down the hill!

Walking in with Honey and leaving the men to deal with the boys, Trixie saw her mom coming to greet them. Bracing herself for her Moms’ happy cries, Trixie was totally unprepared for Helen’s exclamation.

          “Again! Girls! When are you both due?”

          Honey and Trixie looked at each other in shock. And then they both started laughing. And laughed harder when they both said, “May!”

          Catching this as they brought in three busy little boys, Jim and Dan looked at each other.

          “Here we go again,” Dan sighed, leaning heavily against the door he’d just closed.

          Jim sank down on the bench by the door and shook his head. “We thought it was bad 5 years ago with Win and Timmy. I have a feeling this is going to be much worse.”

          Trixie kissed him on the top of his head as she pulled Noah’s coat off. “Happy Halloween – we can decide if this is a trick or a treat.”

          “Definitely a treat,” Peter Belden said from the kitchen doorway where he’d been listening to the conversation. “Definitely a treat.” He hugged Timmy and Win who had grabbed his legs and said, “Let’s go celebrate this good news with some apple cider and Grandmoms’ donuts!”

          He smiled as he walked back into the kitchen with his grandson and the little boy he considered another grandson. More grandkids were the best treat he could think of any day of the year.

This story has been sitting on my hard drive since 2007. At least the part above the asterisks. The rest I wrote last year and finished up this year. It's not my best work, but dang it, I wanted it to go somewhere besides my hard drive!!! I cannot remember now if the bathroom scene was something inspired by my two sons (who would've been 5 and 1 in 2007 and are now 19 and 15), but it wouldn't surprise me if it was. Hope you enjoy this silly little story. Thanks for reading!