Mobbed by knee-high witches

I saw the first Xmas decorations on sale today and we still haven’t had Halloween. My own little spider-man and bat-woman had their party at school yesterday; my son having a second party at another one of these millionaire pads my kids frequent via their rich little Italian friends. The house yesterday was done in mafia pimp style, with hand-painted wallpaper and gilt frames holding large paintings of frowning popes or ingenues with flowers. The indentured staff were all grace and helpfulness while the other mothers slouched in super soft sofas and bitched. I was in and out in fifteen minutes, party bag and all.

I know you think of all the beautiful and stylish things you would buy if you had a little money, but I can assure you that most rich people I’ve met have the most appalling taste. I mean really tacky, like six full-size pony statues roughly carved in soap stone (it was dusk and they seemed to part of a giant chess set under the trees). And there’s so much of the crap they buy. First they never throw away all the stuff they inherit (the gilt-framed portraits and the solid oak dressoirs that would fill a normal-sized room), then they just shop shop shop, in stores that cater only to the most frivolous whims. Be glad you have to save up for something you really want. And that thing you just can’t afford? Bet you’ve forgotten about it next year, or at least smile fondly about your mad passion for it.

Today we made the mistake of going to Oviesse department store, never a good idea late Saturday afternoon, and definitely not when they were offering free face-painting and candy. My GOD! After five minutes the throng around the table was four deep and the parents were yelling at each other to respect the queue (??!). Ten minutes later security closed the doors and started filtering the screaming mob of witches and ghosts. We left by the emergency exit and made it back to the car just as the first sirens were approaching …