Unknowningly, I had stumbled into the zombie defense training camp. Or perhaps it was a camp for training zombies. I'm not entirely sure.
Blankets had been ripped off beds. Stuffed animals had moved in to chairs in the living room. One of our neighbor's sons walked by with Mr C's Halloween mask on (the Scream), making what I assume were supposed to be frightening zombie noises.
Three boys, a twelve year old and two eleven year olds, took over my house for a few hours and made a mess which had nothing to do with computer games or television or anything but their imaginations.
When they ran out the door on their way to another neighbor's home (she aparently kept them outside), I said to Mr C: "I thought you were going to put everything back!"
Later, Mom, he said, putting his coat on as he walked into the chilly afternoon air.
I looked at the chaos they had left behind and thought, darn, I am one lucky woman.
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