Mischief Night

Famously convincing his mother that he needed to guard the house, my stepson Jimmy wormed his way outdoors on Mischief night. Never mind that I could hear and see everything while working in the library, the front room in our house. At ten years old, I remember feeding my own mother the same malarkey. Jimmy disappeared from sight for a few minutes and I wondered whether our little rascal was up to no good. The four rolls of missing toilet paper from the downstairs bathroom should have given his intentions away.

A little while later into the night, Jimmy entered the library, where I sat working at the computer. Jimmy was out of breath but he clearly had something else to get off of his chest.

“Joe, I committed my first act of mischief.” Jimmy said in a confessional tone.

I looked up from the computer monitor. He had my undivided attention now. “You did?” I said invitingly.

Never one to keep a secret unless he coughed up serious money as collateral, Jimmy blabbed. “Yeah, te-he, I toilet papered our neighbor so and so’s house.”

I sighed. “You mean to tell me, a few days prior to the election, you littered the house of the man who may be New Jersey’s next Congressman? Not a smart first criminal act, my son.”

“Only if he wins and I got caught would it be a stupid move.”

Not the mind of a career criminal but I think we will keep him inside next Mischief night.