I'm too busy keeping up with the scariness of my own house. I got Squishy's (an alternative nickname) costume at the new Costco in Grafton, Wisconsin, about a month ago. He's the black spiderman with "mus-culls". That's what his big brother called them and so we've said it ever since. We do have issues with made up words in this house. I'm aware of this but I have given in.
Mooch is Hannah Montana and Snoo is Lily or whoever the friend is on the show. I've tried to block it out. I was forced to watch more Hannah Montana reruns then anyone should ever have to watch and I am secretly convinced they did it just to torture. Because watching rerun marathons of the Hannah Montana show could be used as a form of torture. Just take my word for it. 'm still recovering. We got a wig for Mooch from drugstore.com and J ran off with it and put it on and then sat down on the livingroom floor brushing it much like a four year old girl brushes barbie doll hair. She had to hide the thing in her closet because J wanted to play with it. I'm not sure if I should be concerned or not.
It would have been a blackmail shot for sure and I ran for the camera but he's got the speedy joints of a seventeen year old. I'll get him back though. I know how to get into his facebook account and I'm handy at uploading various preschool photographs of say, a certain boy breastfeeding his preschool's dolls.
Mooch was mad because apparently the wigs can't be brushed and so now it looks like a fuzzy white rats nest is on her head and when I tried to help her pin it on I was laughing so hard that I literally almost peed my pants. Which I hear is normal for a woman who has had four kids.
The Husband had to come and take over because I was so hysterical that my face was red and I just couldn't stop, despite the evil-eyed stares of my hormonal fourteen year old daughter who didn't find it as amusing. I tried to be positive about the situation and encourage her it would be alright like a good mom, I truly did, but then I'd make the mistake of looking at her head, and I'd bust into laughter again. I kept having to leave the room. I suppose I should be ashamed of myself, but I'm not. In fact, I'm still laughing. However, I did resist taking a picture, unlike the time she got her finger stuck in a baby wipe box when she was six years old, mostly because I believe she might have tried to choke me with the thing. She's pretty strong.
J and his friends actually went out. I can not believe people actually give them candy, but I suppose a 6ft tall Kermit the Frog is hard to resist. The mother of J's friend made it for her husband and J's friend was going to wear it, but he got sick. They never came to our house though. I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fear of my getting a picture of him in a giant frog costume. I'm sure he meant to, but he was just too busy avoiding Ms. Piggy.
They're starting to outsmart me and I'm getting quite annoyed when they get out of getting traditional photographs taken. When they were little it was all "look at me", "watch this", "take my picture" ievery other minute and now that I have this great camera I am having to hunt them down like the paparazzi. That's the way it goes.
With four kids the house is now full of more candy then should ever be allowed. This is just Squishy's loot and the basket is like six inches deep.
Snoo is allergic to chocolate so The Husband and I get all of it and that means five more pounds added to my butthigh because Almond Joys are addictive. Mooch gets a little OCD with her candy and she has to separate it all and keep each kind segregated which is handy when I want to sneak a Reese Peanut Butter cup and I don't want to get caught from the sound of my hand rustling through a pillow case full of candy. Vinny wanted to know what all the fuss was about and he was hoping someone would give himi some. He likes skittles.
At the recommendation of my dentist, I let them have as much as they want the first night and so they have at it until they look like this.
It's a rather good system and I've been doing it for years now. Then afterwards they get a handful every day at the same time to avoid the constant acid attacks they get on their teeth when they have two or so pieces of candy several times throughout the day. This way, they sit down and have their little splurge and brush their chompers. Candy also somehow always seems to make its way elsewhere like to the teachers, school secretaries, youth groups, and elderly neighbors. They don't know this though. Until one day they find this blog and realize that-yes, in fact-their candy bowls were a little smaller when they got home from school and-no-they weren't just being paranoid.
I don't have any pictures of pretty Jack-o-lanterns like the years past for you, because I didn't pass out candy this year, and felt it would be sort of mean to confuse the kids with glowing pumpkins in front of a house with a sign on the door that says, "Sorry, no candy this year." Plus I was too lazy.
Squishy did design his own this year though and we scooped its slimy guts out and ate the seeds. Which I burnt. But, I told the kids they are better burnt. They don't believe me, however.
All in all though, it's the beauty and wonder of buckets of free candy.
After dad inspects it all.
