Happy Halloween!

 

Trick-or-Treating weather was bea-u-ti-ful this year! So excited not to have to cover up costumes with winter coats or stuff so many layers underneath they could hardly bend their arms to carry their buckets. We talked Tate out of being a dinosaur for the umpteenth year in a row. He is Bumblebee from Transformers for those of you scratching your heads and staring at the screen strangely from different angles.

 

Obviously Reese is a hippie. Or "groovy girl" as the package said. She simply picked it because it was colorful. Oh, and the girl on the package had curly hair like her. David tried to no avail to convince her to be Smurfette. But she wasn't havin' it. He even threatened to sneak in her room in the middle of the night and paint her face blue.
And Druebie picked "Rock Star". With straight hair. Blue streaked straight hair to be more specific.

Tate literally ran from house to house trick-or-treating. I'd only let him get one house in front of us before I screeched out his name, however. About an hour into it, he started collapsing in people's driveways while he waited for us to catch up and he would say breathlessly, "I'm going to pass out." Reese and I just laughed and she said, "I didn't even know he knew that phrase!". But then he'd pop right back up and be ready to run again. Nobody whined that they were tired. So we just kept going...and going...and going. Drue finally announced calmly that she was done with trick-or-treating and wanted to go back home with Daddy. The only problem was, the rest of us weren't quite ready. So I called David on his cell and told him where to come find us. Within a few minutes, here came her knight in shining auto to pick her up.

 

They got a ridiculous amount of candy. And David didn't end up handing out much from home, so we are surrounded by sugary goodness in brightly colored packages. David has decreed that for each candy wrapper he finds lying around, he will throw away 20 pieces of candy. I almost choked on my Whoppers when I heard that. A wee bit drastic I thought. It lit a fire under the kids to be a bit more careful and make sure their wrappers make it to the trash though. And it certainly doesn't hurt that their sweets-craving mother secretly scours the house behind them getting rid of any forgotten evidence.

 

Tate smiled and giggled and squealed with delight the entire time we were carving pumpkins. Man, I'm going to miss this age. His pumpkin was so hard to carve, David had to break out the power tools. I was sad to see the night end. Tate, Reese, and I finally made it back home, plopped on the couch after surveying the loot and I asked them, "So, what do you want to be next year?!".