I was quite pleased this afternoon to pick the boys up at school
and have the first question out of Evan's mouth be, "Is Bloody Mary a real
person?" Assuming his question was in reference to Queen Mary I, Henry
VIII's daughter and her quest to return England to Catholicism, I couldn't wait
to tell him her life story.
And so I began. Before I even got to her killing Lady Jane Gray, though, he said, "Just tell me about the mirror, Mom."
"The mirror?" I was stumped.
"Yeah, can I say her name three times and see her face in the bathroom mirror?"
I had the wrong Bloody Mary. Well, of course, I did. I mean how could I have ever thought my seven year old would have had any interest in European royalty? I curtly replied, "No, Evan, that Bloody Mary is not real, and no, you will not see her face in the mirror if you say her name three times."
But my answer would not suffice. We spent the next half hour watching homemade You Tube videos of Bloody Mary reenactments (all of which contained three candles in a badly decorated bathroom) and reading enough folklore to make your head spin.
This means just one thing, Folks. When the kids at school begin sharing their scary stories and retelling their hokiest ghost stories, Halloween is upon us. I think I am supposed to be excited, though, because (you might remember from last Mother's Day) according to Keagan, I like to dress up in costumes in my spare time.
In reality, though, Halloween brings little joy and lots of unnecessary stress for me because I am now responsible for finding the most obscure, no-one-has-ever-seen-it or the most popular but never the correct size costume, and once I find the said costume, the boy will have changed his mind and decided that the one costume you saw two weeks ago, the one that is no longer available, is the costume choice of the year. The crying, the should'ves and the wails of self-pity...It's just all too much for me when I find costumes ridiculous to begin with.
Oh, my blood pressure is rising with just the mention of it. I'm thinking I could really use a Bloody Mary right now. Not the queen, not the folklore but the drink. With a double shot of Vodka.
And so I began. Before I even got to her killing Lady Jane Gray, though, he said, "Just tell me about the mirror, Mom."
"The mirror?" I was stumped.
"Yeah, can I say her name three times and see her face in the bathroom mirror?"
I had the wrong Bloody Mary. Well, of course, I did. I mean how could I have ever thought my seven year old would have had any interest in European royalty? I curtly replied, "No, Evan, that Bloody Mary is not real, and no, you will not see her face in the mirror if you say her name three times."
But my answer would not suffice. We spent the next half hour watching homemade You Tube videos of Bloody Mary reenactments (all of which contained three candles in a badly decorated bathroom) and reading enough folklore to make your head spin.
This means just one thing, Folks. When the kids at school begin sharing their scary stories and retelling their hokiest ghost stories, Halloween is upon us. I think I am supposed to be excited, though, because (you might remember from last Mother's Day) according to Keagan, I like to dress up in costumes in my spare time.
In reality, though, Halloween brings little joy and lots of unnecessary stress for me because I am now responsible for finding the most obscure, no-one-has-ever-seen-it or the most popular but never the correct size costume, and once I find the said costume, the boy will have changed his mind and decided that the one costume you saw two weeks ago, the one that is no longer available, is the costume choice of the year. The crying, the should'ves and the wails of self-pity...It's just all too much for me when I find costumes ridiculous to begin with.
Oh, my blood pressure is rising with just the mention of it. I'm thinking I could really use a Bloody Mary right now. Not the queen, not the folklore but the drink. With a double shot of Vodka.
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