A Halloween tale with a side of food!!

When I was a child I was guilty of over indulging in many, many foods. I believe the reason for this was mainly due to; coming form a large family,you had to be quick to get your share…admittedly I probably took a few of my siblings share too.
Kiwi’s I can’t eat anymore, my lips swelled so badly that I may have (inadvertently) became one of the very first ‘pout trouts’ in little old Ireland. I am unable to enjoy Weetabix, I ate so much of that, that it decided to make a reappearance, minutes after I scoffed a huge bowl of it. I can no longer enjoy Jam (strawberry, to be exact), mushrooms, orange chocolate to name a few. These dislikes all occurred pretty much the same way as the Weetabix …
One Halloween, I had been out, trick or treating with my £2 mask and my black rubbish bag as my costume.(Gone are the days!!!!) Those kind of masks were always trying to slowly kill you, unless you were cute enough to make the nostril and mouth holes bigger using your mothers tweezers~sorry Mimi! I was armed with my plastic carrier bag, weighing heavy with money,sweets, nuts, fruit and taytos. I was delighted with my wages for all my ‘singing’ at neighbours doors.
I decided I had, had enough,and came back home. I ran into the kitchen and emptied my bag while my father helped himself to a few bits. “The boys are in the front room watching The Candyman, if you want to go in”. I wasn’t even listening as I had come across a coconut, I’d never had one before.”Open it dad, please” I handed him the hairy oval rock.”Okay, but don’t eat it all in one go” he warned. “We will give Action, Mucker and Mu Friend some too, ok” he cracked it opened as I watched the milky white stream spill into a bowl. “Cool, yeah ok” The boys didn’t like it much,to my delight,I ate practically the whole coconut, in 10 minutes.
“I feel sick” I placed the coconut shell down and pushed Mucker off the couch so I could lay down. I wasn’t paying any attention to the movie as all the boys, included my father, sat,engrossed. No one was paying me attention, and I needed attention, so I moaned louder. Attention in a big family was a rarity, so if you felt unwell, everyone had to know.
I caught a glimpse of Action as it happened. Mucker had passed him the shell. Action stuck the shell right under my nose “here sniff this ya greedy yolk”, he laughed. I couldn’t stop it, I pushed Muckers head out of my way as the vomit hit the carpet, the shell and Action. My father leaped, “Jayous Christ Almighty. Come on come on” he helped me up.”Get a bowl of warm water Action and clean that up”. My father helped me to the toilet, held my hair, rubbed my back while reminding me to never forget this, “Too much of anything will make you sick Mac, and you’ll never eat it again”. Which is clearly a FACT.
“Ohhh” I brushed my teeth. “It was Action and Muckers fault” I, like all good siblings, shifted the blame. My dad would get a look of mischief in his eyes and you would know he was going to play a prank on someone, you just hoped it wasn’t going to be you. (My J has that same look.) He raised his eyebrows,placed his finger on his mouth and motioned for me to come out of the toilet( which was downstairs, I know, very fancy for 1980’s Ireland). He pushed his tongue up to the roof of his mouth forcing his false teeth to pop out. His eyes were hyper now. I covered my mouth, trying not to laugh. He crept over to the junk drawer, to be fair though,for a ‘junk’ drawer it was pretty damn organised, but that is my father to a tee. He took out the flashlight. I giggled. “Shh” he whispered. He motioned for me to follow him. I did. We passed the sitting room, glancing at the three boys, who were hiding behind cushions. Dad gave me the thumbs up. He opened the fuse board and quickly flicked a switch. The house went dark as the TV fell silent. My father, a man of at least 40 years,(at the time) quickly stood at the sitting room door, let out a deep sigh, turned the flashlight upwards, flicked it on, popped out his teeth and yelled “CANDYMAN CANDYMAN”. I even got a fright. The boys jumped and roared while my father, attempted to dodge cushions,”Now, that’s what ye get for picking on that size walking talking Mack’een” we high five’d as he flicked back on the power. The boys all stared at us, as Action said those immortal words my father hated to hear, “Wait ‘till mam gets home”.

I did learn not to eat so much of a good thing from then on….I’d like to tell you all, but that would be a lie.
I also learned that boys don’t forget to get you back, the following Halloween, they got their revenge on me but to this day,they have yet to get dad.

** No children were harmed or scarred for life due to this event as they were and are well used to our daddy**


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