Hey you...yeah, you over there in the fetal position in the corner after another football game and Columbus Day party. Yeah, move over, but don’t speak too loudly or she’ll hear us and I could really use a break.
Who? October, silly. The Calendar Party Girl. The cute one who looks to her right at September with its Back to School buzz kill and to the left at solemn November Black Friday and Election Day and determined frivolity is all up to her during autumn. She makes sure that all parties, school events, weddings, festivals, birthdays, tailgating and general fun are planned during her short weeks.
She stocks her crib with lots of food, drink and Fun Size Snickers so you can't possibly refuse her generous invitation even though you know you'll regret it later. There's no cover, but you'll pay the price of admission ten times over as you try to squeeze everything in.
She's the kind of roommate that plays the Black Eyed Peas too loud when you're trying to study or hides your shoes to make you late for work. She plays hooky and forges notes to the teacher. She's forever ordering the “final final.”
Oh, look who the black cat dragged in. Another late night I see, October.
We are half-way through this festive month, and I just wanted to let you know that I'm on to you, October. You may be dressed in that ridiculous Farrah Fawcett costume (that I stayed up late one night to make, I'll remind you) but I see right through you.
Don't look at me like that.
Yes, it would be fun just to stop by that Halloween party dressed up as Jon and Kate, but I don't have time to shop for an Ed Hardy T-shirt and a wig. We've got a book report due, remember?
No, we can't watch Charlie Brown in the car on the way and write something up in the morning, there's a rubric involved.
Of course a pumpkirazzi would be funny, but that would take hours to carve and we should have a nice healthy dinner and go to bed early tonight.
What? I don't think bobbing for apples counts as a serving of fruit. Neither does Tropical Skittles so don't even ask.
Seriously, we should really clean something and get a good night's sleep.
I know you could clean my clock in pumpkin corn hole, but I'm not playing tonight.
You're so 2000 and late.
You seriously need to step away from the World Series watch parties and run some bases around the gym. An imported beer belly is not any more sophisticated than a domestic one.
That is the sound of me putting my foot down, not a lead-off to a polka--you’re going to have to go to that Oktoberfest without me.
Is she gone?
Not yet? That’s right, it’s only the 15th. Unfortunately she doesn’t turn into a pumpkin until the 31st.
Yeah, fine. I’m coming. One refrain of “Monster Mash” and we’re out of there. I swear.
It’s no wonder why we’re so thankful in November...