The hubs and I are going to a party tonight. Here, we do not yet have the custom of trick or treating. Yes, Halloween has arrived as a tool to help the economy, but Germany is far from the elaborate fun Americans enjoy every year. We celebrate Reformation day today, the day Luther nailed the 95 theses to a door that inspired the upheaval later leading to the formation of protestantism. Men of faith were now allowed to marry, also certain taxes were changed, historically, this was a day with great consequence.
The rest of Germany has a day off today, but Berlin decided to give this day the finger. Tonight, we are not starting a war changing the course of history, we are attending a wine and cheese get-together. The hubs will wear a horse mask, I will be a cat, a dog will be glued to his head, and my head will sport a rooster. That way, we are some kind of the Bremer Stadtmusikanten, a German fable of a bunch of animals getting together to outwit the evil robbers that have horded food to keep for themselves.
The real fable has a donkey instead of a horse, yet we bank on the people present to be equally uneducated. We did not know either until we wikipediad it. It takes not much to frighten me, although it relies on what frame of mind I am in. Some things I can stomach easily, but a simple hiding in the dark and then bursting forth with a big “baaah” suffices. That gets me every time. No matter where I am, I would jump and scream. If the hypothetical kids in the neighbourhood knew, they would steal our hypothetical candy the night before just so they would be able to revel in the joy of watching me literally pee my pants the entire night.
I can anticipate and expect it, yet it still scares me. My brothers would always give me the creeps. On my way to the bathroom they would simply jump out from behind some door post and frighten me stiff. Yes, let’s hope by the time Halloween arrives here prim and proper no one will remember this post. In fact, no one knows where I live, right? Please say so, so I won’t have to be frightened in anticipation of being frightened. Even some of the decoration I get to see from the USA gives me the creeps. Zombies and all, I know they are not real, but in that fraction of a second they simply remind me too much of my brothers. Be afraid, be very afraid.