Can I get 500mg of common sense?

I have to admit that sometimes I get tired of being a stereotype. Kaddi is constantly bewildered as to how I can remember infinite numbers of names, dates, and events from history, but can't remember that ten minutes ago I left the tv remote next to the microwave. It is a serious problem, but one that I control using medication. Every so often, however, I experience a flare-up. Sometimes it occurs a rather public, and therefore embarassing, manner.

A few years ago one of these incidents occurred at Halloween. When we lived in Madison our ward used to organize a trunk-or-treat at the church. One year Halloween fell on a Sunday, so the member decided to hold the activity on the previous Friday instead. Everyone gathered in the parking lot to admire the children’s costumes (barely visible underneath their winter jackets) and exchange candy from the back of our vans. Since only a few families have young children, the entire operation takes about twenty minutes.

It’s difficult even now for me to explain what happened next. Perhaps I was feeling particularly festive. Maybe I was disappointed with the chocolate to crap-candy ratio in the kids treat bags. Whatever the reason, I decided twenty minutes of Halloween simply wasn’t enough. We’d invested in the costumes, the kids were already dressed up, why not knock on a few doors in the neighborhood?

The truly perplexing part of this tale is that those who should have been looking out for me allowed me to continue with my plan. I told Kaddi that I was taking the kids to do a little trick-or-treating and that we’d be back in a few minutes. She simply gave me a quizzical look and said, “You are? Well…okay.” I also remember telling Nivea-for-Tom to bring his young one along. He looked at me like I was an idiot before declining my offer. But did I let that bother me? Mine was the revelry of the blissfully unaware.

I’ll never forget the reaction of the lady at the first house on our route. When she opened the door to find two little kids on her porch asking for candy, her response embodied the civility and decency of the Midwest. “Oh,” she said, “Well…okay…I think I have some candy you can have.” Off she went into her cupboard, producing some Hershey’s kisses and dumping them into the kid’s sacks. No doubt she was taken with their overwhelmingly cute costumes and probably also felt pity because their father must have a severe disability.

We received the same puzzled but courteous greeting at the second house, but somehow still left laden with candy. It wasn’t until we were walking down the steps of the third house that my thoughts began to coalesce around a rather obvious conclusion:

“Hmmm…people sure seem surprised to see us out tonight. Huh, I wonder why there are no other kids outside. Well, it is pretty cold out here. Although it seems odd that no one else from church is knocking doors. Wait a minute..."

And then the little hamster started running in the wheel again.

"Oh...right. Halloween isn’t for…two more days.”

Immediately I had that same sickly feeling you get when you wake up at 9 AM and suddenly realize your final exam began at eight. Meanwhile, Meg and Jake, who were enjoying themselves immensely, were already half way down the block. I quickly called to tell them that we needed to head home because… mom wasn’t feeling well. Then I began the long walk of shame back to the church building, where I would face the ridicule of wife and friends alike.

I wish I could say that was the last such occurence. Sadly, I experienced another flare-up last week. Thankfully, my kids were not involved this time...