Tuesday, November 3, 2009

We Got A Lot Of Booty...

...and because of the candy we hauled in, my booty is growing to the size of a small state. Say, bigger than Rhode Island, but smaller than Connecticut.

We used to give our kids a dime for each piece of candy that they were willing to part with, hoping that the offer of cold, hard caysh would cause them loosen the death grip on the candy bags. In the last couple of years, they have been more interested in eating too much candy than in any easy money they could make off of me. I didn't even offer this year. I just told them that somebody owed me some Snickers bars and that I accept mini, snack size and full size bars. You know the response I got?

Let's just say I could hear the crickets chirping...


There were costumes! There was excitement! There was the parent approved ringing of doorbells and then the handing out and mass consumption of candy! My dear neighbor, Janie, (whom I am now certain harbors a deep-seated, but politely unexpressed hatred for me) told my boys that when they were done, they should come back by her house and she would give them any left over candy she had. Yes, when she told me this, I called her on her hatred of me. "WHYYYYYYY?!?!?!" I lamented. "I thought you liked me!" Then I threatened to make her keep my children for the next fortnight it will take to consume all of that candy and excrete all of that sugar. And do you know what she had the audacity to do? She laughed at me! She gave my children metric tons of candy and then she laughed. It's true, then. She hates me.

Anyway! (Again! What do you mean I'm a little off-task? I think it's possibly a side-effect of a bad drug combination. That's what happens when you combine Snickers bars and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. What do you mean they aren't drugs? They're like crack to me!)

The children were all dressed in their chosen costumes and ready to roll. James was a gangster, complete with gun and tough-guy mobster accent. "Trick or treat! Gimme all your candy, see. And nobody'll get hurt, see. Don't go bein' a wise guy, wise guy, or I'll have to introduce you to my li'l friend!"

Truly, it was the fedora that slayed me. I took one look at his gorgeous green eyes and that hat and I keeled right over and died. Sorry girls, but someday he will break many of your hearts!

Sean was some sort of future crime-fighter/cop/superhero. He can tell you what was on his costume bag. I called it "DON'T PUT THAT THING ON BEFORE HALLOWEEN AND THEN BE VERY CAREFUL BECAUSE IT COST WAY MORE THAN IT'S WORTH AND I CAN'T TAKE IT BACK AND RETURN IT OR GET A REFUND!"

Yeah, his name for it was probably better. You couldn't see his handsome face, but he cracked me the heck up by lifting up his muscle-suited arms and treating us all to a "gun show."

Mary wanted to be a ballerina. This is very nearly the same costume she wore last year. Except last year she had wings and we called her a fairy. It's all very similar when you are five. Whatever it was, she looked very cute and she took her trick or treating duties very seriously, reminding us all not to forget to say "thank you," to be happy with whatever we got because we could trade later, and not to be grabby.

Well, I'll be darned. Sometimes they do listen!

I am not usually a big participant in Halloween, but this year, I decided to dress up. I was Little Red Riding Hood and Patrick was The Big Bad Wolf. When I mentioned to him what I wanted to dress up like, he said, "Hey! Why do we even have to wait for Halloween?!" And then he gave me a leering grin and a suggestive eyebrow wiggle. He would become a very convincing wolf...

Look at him. He told me that he wasn't smiling on purpose, because he was trying to look big and bad and mean. I think he looks more like he's bored and that he cannot believe that he let his wife talk him into this. Truthfully, though, in just about every picture we've taken since our wedding pictures, this is the look on his face. He has a beautiful smile, but he never shows it in photos.

Oh my word. I just read what I wrote. Maybe the reason he looks that way in every picture since our wedding pictures is because he really is thinking "I'm bored and I cannot believe someone talked me into this life!!"

Or maybe he's just taken his Clint Eastwood impersonation a little too far...

Whatever. I convinced him that it would be fun and he totally wore that hat all around the neighborhood.

I guess it's a good thing that he didn't discover that it has been Tilly's stinky, forbidden chew toy until after he got home.

He's really excited for next year already. I told him I'd buy him one of those Colts hats that is a horse's head and he could go as a Colt and I'd dress as a Colt's Cheerleader.

Yeah, right. Oh well. A man's gotta have a dream, right?

And now, if you'll excuse me, I must go and hide some of the Snickers and Reese's Cups before they all get eaten. Maybe I should do it with my eyes closed so that I can't remember where I hid them. You know, before my butt starts to gain even more area and people start asking me if my butt is trying to give Massachusetts a run for its money.

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