* The first year trick-or-treating at our new house (where we have lived for 3 years).
* The first year my kids actually helped carve the pumpkins instead of drawing the faces and then screaming EEW and running away. This is largely because Zenny wasn't scared of getting her hands slimy, and the boys decided they were at least as brave as a 4 year old.
We did not know that trick-or-treating this year should have been extra spooky, because this morning we learned that one of our up-the-road neighbors had been burgled last week and there is a stolen assault rifle on the loose in the neighborhood. Suburbia!
The scariest thing we saw, luckily, was the neighbor who couldn't find any Halloween decorations and lined his walkway with real fire shooting out of sterno cans.
The oldest cousin bailed on us for the 3rd year in a row in favor of people with video games - this time groaning that his girlfriend MADE HIM hang out with her - so we replaced him with Gavin's best friend from robotics. People crap on teenager trick-or-treaters, but they are the best. These kids have no shame, and they are A+ trash-talkers.
My mother and aunt manned their candy distribution post on the other side of the island, and Facetimed us to watch the kids collapse with sugar poisoning at 8:30pm. We chucked the preschooler in bed and stayed up with the big kids to watch Stranger Things and rummage all the Three Musketeers from the candy hoard.
PICTURE DUMP
We made it halfway to school before I looked over and saw what he was wearing
shaaaark, "desert hobo", Victorian ghost child, "plague doctor"(?), makin' bacon pancakes
the look you get when you ask your child to pose with the cat food
We had fog and frickin LASERS.
I feel greasy and old here, but whatever, that is how it is now.
The night was alive with the howls of "bacon panCAAAAAKES!"
Solidly successful holiday, folks.
No comments:
Post a Comment