Two years without makes you appreciate something you generally loathe.
I'm no converted Halloween believer, but this year I was at least a smiling tolerator. And that's saying a lot.
We carved pumpkins.
Itty bitty pumpkins because the grocery store was out (which, by the way, who runs out of pumpkins a week before Halloween???), and I wasn't going to another store to try to track down some stupid gut-filled gourds. So we used what we had.
The kids were all gung-ho to carve, until I opened the tops. Then they all went scarce. Because they seem to have forgotten what the inside of pumpkin looks like??? And Allen was at a fireside, so I got to be the de-gutter. And scraping out scraps in itty bitty pumpkins is knuckle-bruising. Big time.
I'm the room mom for Tessa's preschool class. Worship me. I threw one rip-roaring Halloween party. Also, Eden hated every part of that danged skunk costume. Stinker.
We met up with our favorites for some downtown Summit trick-or-treating. Because it was strangely, yet deservedly, warm.
Also, that is the only picture I got of the children. Ryder was some freak skateboarding skeleton thing and the girls were characters from Littlest Pet Shop.
Obviously, I am way past having any say in the costuming department.
Then we came home, I stuffed scrambled eggs down their faces, then sent them out the door with their father to trick-or-treat the neighborhood (while Eden slept and I handed out candy).
They came home with way too much. Way, way, waaaayyyyy, too much.
So, yeah, definitely not converted.
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