I was a small kid.
So, for Halloween, Mom used to dress me up as a garden gnome.
This wasn’t all that special, because she made me dress up as a garden gnome the rest of the year.
She’d force me to stand outside in the weeds and watch the street.
“It’s raining, Mom!” I yelled. “Can I come inside?”
The TV was too loud for her to hear me. Or she was passed out drunk.
Eventually, the county took me away and put me in a foster home.
Well, in front of a foster home.
I hate lawn gnomes.