I'll admit it. I'm a sucker for the American Dream.
I've been in my house for over two years now, and I still get excited when I have "Homeowner Moments". When a girl scout tries to sell me some cookies. When I shovel my neighbors' sidewalks. When the faucet breaks and I have to go all Manly Man trying to fix it. And then I have to go all Unmanly Man trying to re-fix it after I screwed it up the first time.
I soak that shit up. I'm addicted to it. I need little American Dreams Patches that help ease my cravings to edge my lawn and blow leaves into the neighbors' yard.
So when I carved a pumpkin and put it on my doorstep, I was having a little Amerigasm.
But not just at the idea of carving a pumpkin and putting it on my front step for all the little trick'or'treaters to see.
No, I thought it would be my initiation into the neighborhood.
I placed it right out on my doorstep, where anyone between the ages of 13-17 couldn't help but pick it up and smash it. They probably wouldn't even realize it happened. They'd just be walking by, black out for a few seconds, and wake up covered in pumpkin organs and Fourloko.
Every morning I ran outside, like it was Christmas or Easter, hoping that the Pumpkin Fairy had barfed up pumpkin guts all over my very manicured sidewalk.
So this morning I walked out my front door, saw the pumpkin perched up like some sort of vegetable royalty and walked to my truck to leave for work.
And that's when I noticed someone had egged my truck.
Finally, my Dreams had come true.