“Mrs. Dunn! Mrs. Dunn!” I heard as I finished the dishes one morning.
Arriving at the door, there was Pickles, and her sidekick, Puddles.
“Mrs. Dunn, we’ve run out of needle and thread!” said Pickles.
“And my scissors are dull,” said Pancakes.
Oh Lord, please help us all, I thought. And then I remembered...Halloween was not far off.
“You aren’t supposed to make costumes requiring sharp objects, remember?” I asked.
“But I need the scissors! I’m going to be a real pancake, with syrup and butter!” said little Pancakes the baby goat.
“Why don’t we see what everyone has going on,” I said, dreading to see what awaited me.
When we got to the barn, little Hannah was sitting alone and looking quite glum.
“I don’t want a costume this year,” she said.
“And why not?” I asked.
“Because the peoples wouldn’t let me enter my pumpkin into the Pumpkinfest,” she said.
“They said they only take whole pumpkins, and Ollie ate most of mine,” Hannah said.
“It was a wonderful pumpkin!” said Ollie the goat as he crashed through the room.
“Well Hanna, maybe you can be a pumpkin this year then,” I suggested.
She sighed. I moved on to look at the mess before me-cardboard, scissors, ribbons, paper, cloth, and seed bags.
In the back corner, I could hear deep sighs and a bit of cussing. It was Helen, one of the elder goats, trying to thread a needle.
“How in the world does the fashion industry ever get any clothes made? I’ve been trying to thread this needle for hours,” she said. I stepped in and helped her, although I struggled too.
“What are you making?” I asked.
“I am making a fish, so little Puddles can say “I am a Puddles with a fish.”
Brilliant, I thought.
Earnest the pig ventured over.
“I think it’s better when you make the costumes. There is quite a bit of chaos, and soon we have to prepare for the nativity scene,” the pig told me.
“Let’s just get through Halloween first,” I said.
Pickles came rushing through the scene.
“Does anyone have anything that looks like long, brown hair?”
“And your costume is?” I asked.
“I am going to be Sophia Loren,” she said. “What are you going to be, Mrs. Dunn?”
“Terrified. Terrified until all the sharp objects are back in a box,” I said glibly.
As I walked back to the house, I remembered that months ago as a lark I got a little wig for the pug– don’t judge me. I found the wig and returned to the barn.
“Pickles, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but maybe this will help with your Sophia Loren outfit,” I said.
Pickles was thrilled.
I returned to the house and went about my business.
“Mrs. Dunn,” said Lumpy the pug, “have you seen my wig? I need it for my Three Stooges costume.”
Oh dear me. I thought. Now I’m in a real pickle.
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