Mistaken identity

My costume is not ready. So I wear my orange and black sweater to the trick-or-treat fest downtown.

A lady looks at me and smiles.

“Are you a witch?” she asks.

I put my hands on my hips and glare at her.

No, I say.

And I thought only kids called each other names, I think to myself.

Snap, crackle, pop

More snow. Lots more snow.

It weights down limbs. That pop and break.

All night long.

Cat woman

Meow!

Like a lady

Mom shows me how to hold my long, princess skirt. Away from my toes. So I can climb up and down stairs.

I pinch my skirt with my long finger and thumb. My little finger sticks out.

I walk with grace. And do not fall.

I’m a lady, I say.

Juicy nose

Wet stuff pours down my face. Toward my lips.

Juice comes out of my nose, I fret.

“You have a cold,” Mom says. And hands me a tissue.

I blow my nose. But it still feels stuffed.

Now boogies keep the juice in, I whine.

Halloween or the flu?

I do not feel well. I am too hot. And I have a bad cough.

Mom takes me to see the doctor. A nurse hands me a yellow mask.

“Please cover your cough,” the nurse says. “Just in case it’s flu.”

Mom fits the mask over my mouth. And loops a string around my ears.

I do not like it. I take it off.

Mom reaches for another mask. She takes a pen out of her purse. She draws big lips. And funny teeth. Then Mom slips the mask on her face.

I giggle.

“Would you like a Halloween mask too?” Mom asks.

Yeah, I say.

Mom hands me the pen. And I draw on my mask. And then Mom helps me put it on.

The doctor is pleased. She thinks we have great flu masks.

No, Halloween masks, I say.

“That’s right,” the doctor says. “You are one of the lucky ones. You do not have the flu!”

Mom smiles behind her drawn smile.

“Let’s take our Halloween masks home,” she says.

Okay, I agree.

How to pick the perfect rock

I run my hand over the rocks. I pick out a pale pink one. A shiny purple one. And a smooth blue one.

Mom walks me to the counter to pay for them.

“These are so small,” the lady says. “They are all the same price. Wouldn’t you like bigger ones?”

No, I say.

But the woman laughs. “I’ll be right back,” she says.

The lady brings back three bigger rocks in pink, purple and blue. Then she points to each set of rocks.

“Which set would you like?” she asks.

The ones I pick, I say. They fit my hand.