Flyfour and I arrived with the children, three slow cookers full of soup, (the fact that at the end of the night we took home three almost full slow cookers of soup isn't important) and a car boot full of decorations, a marquee and enough glow sticks to light twenty-two and a half raves.
Flyfour and I quickly put up the Marquee and set to work decorating it, covering the windows with black bin bags and generally making a haunted house to be proud of. We didn't argue too much whilst putting it all together and we agreed when we were finished that it was a Haunted Marquee to be proud of.
It went really well, the Children were loving the scares they were getting and as Flyfour kept moving where he was in the Gazebo, children who returned were able to enjoy the experience multiple times and the Children were returning multiple times. Not just to get sweets, but because they told me they were enjoying the scares they were getting.
There is one story I want to share, which I'm sure will enter into the stories of legend for my family and will be shared for many years to come and for the purposes of this story, we shall call the child involved George.
George is a child I know really well and he is fabulous fun. He is eight years old and the sort of cheeky chappie who is confident and generally a good laugh. At the door I asked him how scary he wanted it to be and he told me that he wanted it to be really scary. After a brief joke about how I was going to make sure it was super wet your pants scary. So I told Flyfour that it was a brave eight-year-old and that it was one of the children I knew and George walked tentatively into the Gazebo.
I peeked into the Gazebo and watched as George worked his way past the hanging dangling scary things towards the sweets left apparently temptingly unguarded in the back of the car. I could see Flyfour hidden in the shadows to one side of the boot, apparently unseen by George.
George made it all the way to the boot when Flyfour creeped up behind him.
"Why are you touching my sweets?!" he said in a low growl
George was startled.
He had thought that he was alone in the Gazebo and as he spun round to face Flyfour, he brought his hand up to protect himself from the ghoulish figure before him. The only problem was this hand was clenching the bucket full of sweets he'd been collecting from various trunks along the car park and
The bucket hit Flyfour squarely in the face.
Now, I'm a bad wife, because the first thing I did at this was howl with laughter. The second thing I did was encourage George to come to me so that Flyfour could access if there was any damage to his face.
I know it was a bad thing, but George was perfectly fine, Flyfour was perfectly fine and it's a story we'll remember forever.
Did anything fun happen to you or your loved ones this past Halloween?