Ah. I’ve just realised the date so I must make sure I get the mantrap out of the garage tonight and lay it down on the path to stop those Halloween oiks from frightening the life out of an old man.
Scooter has already been traumatised this week by idiots tossing fireworks about in the street causing her to lose that ‘brave cat’ stance she adopts when perched on the roof of next door’s shed.
Of course it is the beginning of the season of youthful extortion when failure to surrender will result in your front door being pelted with eggs.
So we have Halloween, then it’ll be a Penny for the Guy followed by muttering carol singers. There was a day when these things use to be fun, but unfortunately the financial needs of kids these days – to pay their mobile phone bills, buy the latest hoodie tops and the costs of other dubious habits – has given these events a rather hard edge.
The trouble is the soft-centre of my soul will still see me havinge a bag of sweets parked on the hall table for callers. Though in truth it may be more out a desire of not wanting to scrub the front door clean.
The season of youthful extortion
