Halloween Scare Tactics

So...walked outside this morning.

Saw this in my driveway:

Um...happy Halloween?

Meatball-flavored grapes.

I'm having grapes for breakfast.

"What the h*ll are these? What the f*ck kind of grapes are these?"- Dad (swears like a sailor. Actually, no, my brother's navy and Dad's definitely worse than him...)

"Whaddya mean? They're green. They're grapes. They're green grapes, Dad."- Me

(shaking her head while organizing her bills) -Mum

So I'm having those grapes for breakfast today...and they taste like lasagne.

Which means it's party time! Whenever my parents host a party (Labor Day!), they cram so much food in the fridge that everything begins to taste like everything else.

I'm not sure why that is, since most of it has been tinfoiled, but whatever. It makes these grapes taste...very filling. Like little meatballs.

The Mafia..?

Ok, so I was totally going to write about the fact that I was mistaken for a 46-year-old, and two hours later, a 16-year-old, today, but I walked into this scene right around dinner time:

What is that? Well, that would be my father, "sorting his ammo," according to my mother's response to the question that must have been all over my face.

WHAT?!?

Let's back this up. My father, about 100 years ago when I was a wee babe, occasionally went hunting with a few of his buddies. (In this scene, picture a small red-headed she-devil crying and yelling from the front porch that they were killing Bambi's mom-that was me.)

They didn't really ever shoot anything; it was just a weekend to get away and be "men", or whatever.

He has not been hunting in years and I have not seen him go anywhere near guns/ammo in over two decades.

"Dad, where'd you get all this?" To which he responds, "Sid".

My father is a mechanic who works in a big shop owned by Sid. Sid is a very large, very loud Italian man with a crazy temper and a generous checkbook come weddings and graduations. He has also, during lunch at the local Chinese restaurant, stabbed a guy in the hand.

His gifts to my father so far? A 9mm, a piano, a coffin, and now, multiple boxes of ammunition.

Thoughts?