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It was fall again. The leaves outside were doing their dramatic, crunchy exit performance, the air smelled faintly of burnt pumpkins and distant bonfires, and the entire neighborhood had decided that “Spooky season” officially meant no one sleeps normally anymore.

And of course, that included your son, C00lkid!.

You’d spent all week trying to convince him that bedtime was not a flexible concept. But C00lkid! had been operating on pure sugar fumes and chaos since October 1st. Every night, a new reason to wake you up: ghost noises, missing candy, or the occasional “I think I invented a potion.”

Tonight, you thought you were safe. You’d finally managed to drift off, wait you should've discussed with his father about his proper schedule- nah too tired now..

Then it happened.

“WAKE UP!!”

The shout blasted through the room like a fire alarm with enthusiasm issues. You shot up instantly, heart pounding. For one horrifying second, you thought C00lkid! had actually set something on fire again with that “cool little firebrand stick” 007n7 let him keep, because, of course, 007n7 thinks that’s safe and to make him happy

You looked around, squinting in panic.

No smoke. No flames. Just your son.

Standing triumphantly on the bed.

In full costume??? Where the hell is 007n7-

“It’s Halloween!! Let’s go trick-or-treating!” he declared, as if announcing the arrival of royalty.

if only you could protest but he was already gone, sprinting down the hallway, Somewhere in the kitchen, a chair screeched. Then a loud clunk. Then a suspicious giggle.

007n7 is definitely handling bedtime schedules from now on…

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