Mike: Those pumpkins look familiar. Wait… Please tell me you did not steal them from the neighbor’s front door!
Me: Steal them? What kind of person do you think I am? I knocked on her door and asked to use them!
In the few years my neighbor has lived across the way, I have learned that she loves holidays. She loves decorating, but not in that obnoxious look-at-me-I-am-the-first-person-on-the-block-with-mechanical-Victorian-ornaments, but something more subtle and sweet. She puts just enough work that it doesn’t look haphazard or cheap. I know I will end up using Nathan as a Christmas tree (and say, “Ta-daaa!”) because my cats eat and or knock down whatever I set up. I tried lighting candles once and the two chased each other, knocked into my candle tier and ended up with hot wax all over their fur. This woman does not have any pets. I know inside her home, there are gentle touches of color-coordinated ribbons and undisturbed candles and Pier 1 frames and this, I envy. I don’t envy her enough to steal pumpkins, though.
Actually, I was really tempted to borrow them or put Nathan in his Bumbo seat and do some vigilante pumpkin posing but how would I explain myself? “Yes, I know we’ve never really talked and I do realize that I am in front of your house, with the pumpkins that you bought with your hard-earned money, but yeah–LOOK SOMETHING SHINY OVER THERE!” *This is when I would run, son in tow, and never emerge from the house and teach Nathan to read by using the subtitles off the Gilmore Girls seasons 1-5 DVDs*