*Clack* *Clack* *Clack*
"Not THAT house, momma!" Alexis whispered in the darkness.
"OK. Do you know where Morgan lives?" I replied.
*Clack* *Clack* *Clack*
She thought for a moment, shifting the spooky black bucket filled with candy and trinkets from one arm to the other. "It's the third house, but I don't know which street," she said.
As we crept through the neighborhood seeking houses to Boo, it became clear that Alexis and her friends need to do a better job of telling each other where they live. She has SO many friends in our neighborhood, but she knows them from the bus and from school. They live here ... somewhere. She just doesn't know where because she is the last to get on the bus. They live somewhere close. That much I know.
*Clack* *Clack* *Clack*
"What about Noah's house?" I asked. No one has ever taken the quest to select five houses to Boo quite as seriously as Alexis did. She disqualified kids for using "grown-up" words ("shut up" being the worst of the named offenses), for not being nice enough, for not being good enough friends.
So we continued our quest. On and on.
*Clack* *Clack* *Clack*
At least we came across a house Alexis deemed worthy of a Boo. With a mischievous look in her moon-lit eyes, Alexis prepared to dash up to the door, drop the loot, ring the doorbell, and hide as fast as she could.
*Clack* *Clack* *Clack*
Just as she was about to take off running, Alexis froze in her tracks. "MOMMA," she scolded. "Why didn't you wear sneaky shoes? They're going to hear us!"
*Clack*
"Oh," I said. The girl had a point. My shoes echoed a *clack* with each and every step I took.
And that is how I accidentally taught my kid to wear soft-soled shoes when she's sneaking around in the dark. Remind me that I did it when she's a teenager, please?
