


When I was a child, I would dress in my costume hours before it was necessary. I would layer it, planning to keep warm in the chilly, late-October evenings. Costumed or athletic--it didn't matter, really--my shoes would munch and crunch and grind down the leaves on sidewalks. I would scuffle across their crumbs as I retreated with a pillowcase of candy, the crinkling paper rustling.

At night, I would cuddle on the couch with my mother, sniffing pumpkin spice candles and poking at the autumnal decorations. She and I would each unwrap a piece of candy, our feet on the coffee table. "NEXT UP," the TV would proclaim, "CHARLIE BROWN'S HALLOWEEN SPECIAL."


Years later, we still maintain the "I got a rock" joke.
"What did you get at the mall? Anything?"
"Well, you know. I got a rock."
"Your mother, Miss Geraldine, gave me 'stuff' again. I got slippers and microwavable soup. What did she give you?"
A pouting face, lips barely concealing a smile. "I got a rock."


It's a truly versatile statement, really. It can be used as a response to the following statements:
-- "What did you get at the grocery store?"
-- "What did you order online, again?"
-- "Can you tell me what you got Jimmy for his birthday?"
-- "Did you bring home any souvenirs from your visit to New Zealand?"
-- "What did the doctor say you've got?"
-- "You wanna fight? YOU WANNA FIGHT? I got a knife!"


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