The kids are all sugared up and back to school today. The creepy crawlies are all packed up and put away. There is a light snow falling, and we are anticipating our Thanksgiving feast. Every year, on this one day, I make cornbread dressing, broccoli cornbread, turkey, pumpkin pie, etc. and we gorge ourselves. Every year, when it's all done, I say "Why do I only make these certain things only for Thanksgiving? I should make them more often." Then I forget about it until next Thanksgiving, and we start all over again. I guess that would be our Thanksgiving tradition. Everyone has to have one, I suppose. Everyone also has their scary Halloween story to share. Here is mine. I went to sleep late on Halloween night. Around 2 am, I woke to a rustling sound. It was at the foot of the bed. Rustle, rustle, quiet. Rustle, rustle, quiet. I got up and checked it out. I snuck around the foot of the bed and peeked. There in the darkness... was Tink, our resident one-year-old troublesome cat. She had stolen one of the attachments to Jess' new hairdryer, and was trying to peel the protective plastic bag away from it. I took it from her, tossed it in the bathroom drawer, and went back to bed. About an hour later, I woke to another rustling sound. This, too, was coming from the foot of the bed. I was a little less cautious this time. Tink was now gnawing on a wadded up dollar bill. (Jess empties her pockets out onto her bathroom counter before bed, and assumes it will all be there in the morning.) Grumbling something about teenagers and stupid cats, I threw it onto Jess' desk and headed back to bed. My husband mumbled something to the effect of "Stop playing with the cat and go to bed." I mumbled something of an appropriate response, and went back to sleep. About 5 am, I woke again. There is a lump under the comforter at the foot of the bed. There is a small, furry creature under the comforter with it's two front legs wrapped around my right calf, claws extended into my skin. I debate for a few seconds on what to do. Pain vs. the need for sleep. Then teeth join the party. I instinctively jerk my leg. Big mistake. Claws and teeth clamp down harder. Then claws and teeth start to work their way up my leg. I am now wide awake, trying to get up without moving my leg. When evil creature reaches my knee, I can now reach her head and shoulders. I grab anything with fur and yank it up and out of the blankets. Husband tells me once again to stop playing with the cat and go to sleep. Ugh! SHE IS NOT EVEN MY CAT! WHY DOES SHE ONLY DO THIS TO ME? I threaten evil fur ball with declawing and deteething, and toss her out of bed. She wanders off to to enjoy a leisurely breakfast before going to sleep. Her work is done.