Since my mom is staying with us as I recuperate I only thought it fair to wrangle her into our random act of kindness for the day.
We picked up a few small pumpkins and ribbon and set about making centerpieces. That was the easy part. The delivery had me worried.
“Will they see me?” my mom asks. She’s up for most things but seemed worried about coming across as a crazy stalker carrying a pumpkin.
“How fast can you run?” I respond in a deadpan tone to my 71-year-old mother with bad knees.
“Do I have to run?”
I smile. “I’m just kidding! How about I stick the car in reserve so we’re ready to roll as soon as you jump back in the car?”
“OK!” She’s excited now. Appeased by our Plan B, she hobbles up to the front door.
The last time we attempted to leave something on a neighbor’s doorstep, Angus blew our cover by ringing the front bell. Not today. My mom has the makings of a CIA agent in training.
“They didn’t see me.”
“I know. Good job!”
She’s smiling and having a good time. “This is fun! Now where does the lady with the dog live?”
We are strategically hitting two houses in our neighborhood. I may be prejudicial in my selection since I only seem to pick people my Uncle Mike calls “oldies.”
Plastic pumpkins and jack-o-lanterns cover Dee’s front walk and porch. She’d confessed to loving Halloween the other day when she stopped to talk to us while walking her dog. I’m afraid she may not notice our addition in her vast collection of Halloween fun.
My mom has the same thought as she heads back to the car. “Do you think she’ll even be able to see it?”
“Beats me! Let’s roll!”