The Pumpkins on my Roof

I tried to hush my breathing while hiding behind a tree in the dark. Three little pumpkins landed on MY HOUSE! I turned and whispered to my Dad, "When did they get here?" With all seriousness, he said, "They got here right before we got y'all from school. Boy, were they loud gettin on that roof." I hope they're just as excited as I am to see each other again. The pumpkins come every year, and I'm always stunned by how magical they look under the moon. The bright orange glow of their wacky grins mesmerizes me. It seems like they're laughing non-stop and cracking the funniest of jokes.

I'll never forget the first time I ever saw the pumpkins. I was in kindergarten, and my family had just eaten dinner. After my Mom left for her night shift, Dad picked me up and carried me outside. He pointed up to the roof, and there they were. We named them Mo, Larry, and Curly, like The Three Stooges. He told me to listen to the wind because when it blew, that meant they were talking about us. The pumpkins were awake during the night and asleep during the day. When we're asleep, that's when they fly around the town and cause a little chaos. It was a pleasure to host them every year.

"Bang!" My nephew, Alex, comes running out of the house, accidentally slamming the door. "SHHHHHH," my Dad and I wave for him to meet us at the tree. He runs for his life toward us, sprinting faster than any kid I've ever seen.

Finally, we're all outside.

"Are y'all ready?" My Dad whispers. We're all quiet. Silence. Literal crickets.

"Go Go Go Hurry!" Dad runs first. We dash from the safety of our hiding spot and run wildly around the front yard. The neighbors start coming out of their houses, wanting to know what all the ruckus is about. Dad is yelling and waving his arms, "Here, little pumpkin pumpkin pumpkins!" Alex is performing cartwheels, and I'm laughing, running back and forth. The soft thuds of sweet tarts, mini chocolate bars, and jolly ranchers hit the grass. We scoop up our treats and try not to get hit on the head with candy.

I look up at the pumpkins and see their lights flickering inside them. It looks like they're laughing so hard. The harder we make them laugh, the more candy they throw. I try to act as silly as possible because I want more candy than my nephew. I whip out my signature move, running around acting like a chicken. Gets them every time.

A Three Muskateers bar falls close to Alex. "Oh no!" He knows that's my favorite candy! I rushed to push him out of the way, but he grabbed it first! As I was about to kick him, I felt a cool breeze. "BONK!" a blow pop hits me on the head. "Ouch!" That lollipop reminded me- There's no time to fight; we had to hurry and pick up our candy before it knocked us out.

Once my Dad ran out of breath, we met at the hiding place to carefully sneak back into the house. Alex and I counted our candies, and he won by having one extra candy. It just so happened that I had a packet of Skittles. We had a fair trade, Skittles for that beautiful, chocolatey Three Musketeers bar. Of course, this was never a competition. We just always had to make it one. I went upstairs for my nightly shower, thinking about the chocolate and how thrilled I am to end my day with a piece of my favorite candy. I skipped to the kitchen with my wet hair but couldn't find the bar.

"Daddy, did you see the Three Muskateers bar?"

"Oh yeah! I ate it."

Dang it, I should have known. Dad usually picks at our candy stashes.

Alex walks into the kitchen, happily eating his Skittles.

"That sucks. Grandpa ate your chocolate." He chuckled at me.

"Do you want this Snickers?" I say sure, and he hands me the chocolate.

"Here you go, but you owe me a candy tomorrow."

Sure, I'll give him an extra candy from my stash tomorrow, but if he takes a Three Muskateers bar from me again, I'll have to kick him.