Another Halloween has come and gone and I can’t say that I’ve converted into a fan.
There have been Halloween’s in the past that were worse.
-There was the year my roommate got into a bar fight and got punched in the face. She only weighed about 100 lbs.
-There was the year I got food poisoning. Thankfully that coincided with the year the swim team was stalking the streets of Stevens Point looking for the wrestling(?) team over some infraction I have since forgotten but it involved a lot of crying girls. I missed it all and only heard about it the next day, no big loss.
-There was the year I tried to avoid all Halloween related activities. Piper as a very large puppy gave me a black eye that night.
Last night while there were no catastrophe’s I’m not sure the amount of fun had was worth… well, all the rest of it.
The problem stemmed from the fact that I have a three year old. (If you are unfamiliar with daily life with a three year old or need a refresher Motherhood Uncensored described it fairly well today in Congrats on your 3-year old!) The three year old had a problem with her costume. It started about an hour before we were reading to go trick or treating and it went like this…
I don’t want one. I do want one. I want to be Pooh. I want to be a fairy. I want to be a princess. I want to be a fairy princess. (At this point I gently nudged us away from the princess line of thought since in the hours before trick or treating I stepped on and smashed her crown, shhhhh don’t tell!) Fairy. I don’t want wings. I don’t want a skirt. I don’t want a wand. I do want all those things. No, I want flowers not a wand. I want all the flowers. I want no flowers. I don’t want shoes.
… get the picture?
Meanwhile I was dressing Clara. She doesn’t talk. Some days I love that about her.
Finally I assembled an uncooperative lamb and a fairy in the yard:
As I took pictures of the girls in the yard (quickly before someone decided to take her wings back off) I discovered something. Both real sheep and pretend sheep take about two minutes once they hit our property to get burrs in their wool.
(No Clara is not picking her nose in all these pictures she’s picking the scab from getting a gigantic sliver in her face after falling in the garden, but that’s a different story)
As I deburred Clara we waited for John. We were waiting because, as everyone knows, the best time to butcher sheep is just before you go trick or treating with your kids…at the last minute he came running to the house changed his clothes looked at me and said, “Now, do I have any blood on my face?” I tried to convince by color blind husband that this was the one night it really didn’t matter… He didn’t care, something about real blood vs. fake blood… in any case we loaded up and headed into town.
When we got there the girls had an hours worth of fun filling their buckets full of candy.
That night while John was back outside skinning sheep in the dark (talk about creepy Halloween activities) and I was putting Ivy to bed I tried to decided if it was worth it.
You know, I’m still not sure, but I can tell you with out a doubt that I love mini Milky Ways!