Our house was all decorated for Halloween. The problem was Halloween was a week ago. Some of the styrofoam gravestones had been upended, but the zombie hands still stood and the skeletons still looked like they were coming up from the ground. I had taken another business trip the next morning after trick-or-treating (of course I took a few pieces of candy with me) and had been gone for a week. My absence and our crazy schedules meant the kids, and our neighbors, were going to get to celebrate until the next weekend came, when I could carefully dismantle the scene. Arriving home two days later, the graveyard was gone—packed up into bins ready to be put back in the shed for another year.
I married a good woman.