The Skeletons In My Closet Get More Action than Jesus

My family is built for Halloween

At some point in the middle of August, creepy things start appearing around the house. The beach and picnic knickknacks begin to transform into more sinister ones at a barely perceptible clip. A clever little gravestone over here, a pithy cauldron over there.

Amazon packages show up on a regular basis at our house, but instead of new flip-flops or beach-scene picture frames, the sinister smiling boxes contain whimsical coffin-shaped snack bowls or spiders floating in a mysterious glowing liquid.

The change makes a slow crescendo over several weeks. If you live in my house, you barely notice it. But the slow creep is there. It happens right under your nose.

Our collection of spooky decorations has been growing considerably for 15 years now, and it’s overtaking what used to be the mother of all holiday decorating seasons: Christmas.

In the middle of September, when the sun sinks a little lower in the sky and the days get shorter, a formal request comes in from corporate to bring up the 6 hefty bins of traditional Halloween decor. And since I don’t want to get dinged again for my late TPS reports, I go down to the garage to unearth the decorations.