THIS is the place the kids want to go to EVERY year here in Ohio. Not all kids…the ones in my life. Me?
Not so much.
When I was young, going to a haunted house meant going to an abandoned, derelict hovel out in the country and scaring oneself until I peed my pants. Or going to a graveyard in the middle of a cornfield in the dead of night. One of my good friends drove a old Hurst and we got it stuck in a graveyard across from our high school. Embarrassing.
This year I gave most of my decorations to the kiddos to use as they wish.
It’s time to pass on the torch!