By Staff
There I was, sitting across from her at the kitchen table, with my head hung low. The other doctor in the family – the English professor – was on her high horse, berating me about my article on my being the Grinch of Halloween.
"Those, those run-on sentences! Disgusting! And I found a comma splice! And probably there were dangling participles, too! Not to mention a brazen lack of parallelism in the sentence structure. And then your logic – give me a break! You said it was terrible to have the yard teepeed. But you thought it was amusing that some kids pushed over an outhouse, humiliating a feeble old man? And after dissing trick-or-treating you had the gall to say that next year you might even participate in the trunk-or-treat at the Methodist Church. You're an Episcopalian, for God's sake! And when did you ever buy our kids bags of candy – yes, bags – of candy from the market? They had braces and fillings!"
There was no graceful escape from this impromptu proverbial trip to the woodshed.
Well, that did it! My ears were ringing! I left the table with all the (feigned) humility I could muster, walked into the pantry and found the stash of candy begged by my granddaughters (and hidden from me!) on Halloween!
By now, my wife was actually feeling sorry for me and decided to aid and abet my (evil) plan. Talk about hypocrisy! She diverted the attention of the little ones so I'd have time to get to the bags. Yes – I raided the candy bags. Not finding candy I liked, the English Grinch riffled through the bags until she found an Almond Joy. One Almond Joy! I felt better after a dose of carbs and sugar.
But there was a tinge – just a tinge – of guilt for stealing from children – children who dressed as a doctor and an angel. Yes, I stole from my grandchildren! Being a Grinch is a tough job with heavy responsibilities. But, I guess, someone has to do it. I felt better after that sugar rush. That one Almond Joy was delightful. I was satisfied. Holding my head high, I thought about the one great blessing of this Halloween season – the absence of a 50-pound pumpkin on my front porch. Thank the ghouls for small favors!
After the emotion of the diatribe about my last article cooled, I realized that what really bothered the English professor was the fact that I had sneaked the article past her and sent it directly to John Eby.
So, if this article actually appears in the paper, it's because it has finally passed inspection and is sealed with the Mrs. Doctor's approval.
Am I sorry for any of my hateful statements about Halloween? Will I repent for raiding the Halloween bags of treats? Heck no! Halloween is the most horrible day of the year!
Will I continue to steal candy from my granddaughters? Do witches ride brooms? Do bats hang upside down? Do vampires suck blood? Of course I will stay the course and win the war. After all, I'm a self-righteous, arrogant Grinch. I'm Don Ludman, and I approve of this message.