Next year on this day, we’ll have a seven month old baby. I can’t quite wrap my head around that, or the fact that the movie Ghostbusters came out 28 years ago. (Once in a Lifetime by Talking Heads. Am I right?)
Over the weekend we carved the pumpkins we retrieved from the pumpkin patch to resemble gruesome heads that will soften and rot away on our porch, as you do, and we allowed Julia to cut her own all by herself. WITH A KNIFE. ALL BY HERSELF.
(Hers is the second from the left.)(And yes, that IS dust all over my piano!)
So, there’s no need for scary movies this season. I’ve had my fill of fright.
Later, we will eat brain cupcakes and watch It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!
Tomorrow (or this weekend, if I’m feeling lazy) This weekend, we will put up our Thankful Tree.
Same as it ever was…
Julia wanted to be a vampiress for Halloween, which is a pretty easy costume to improvise. All you need is some form of black dress, a pale face and fangs. Maybe some fake blood, if you’re into gore. (She wasn’t.) We pulled her costume together and were all good to go score some candy until we found that the various plastic and rubber fangs we had were uncomfortable to wear and, more importantly, made it so Julia couldn’t talk and she refused to wear them trick or treating. Instead, I drew some fangs with her make up.
(I think this makes up for the eyebrows I did on the first try.)
“You tell everyone how much you paid for stuff.”
Dragon costumes: $10 and $5, respectively, at Goodwill.
(It’s true. I do.)
Julia came home from school yesterday and asked me to make some Halloween treats. “The Fall party is tomorrow and I said you’d make some.”
“The Fall party is TOMORROW?”
I’d had an experience earlier this week that left me feeling so completely low and useless and unworthy of living that I’ve been pretty much curled up in a ball for two days. (Maybe I’ll tell you about it sometime.) (Maybe not.) But this made me sit up.
I called her teacher and indeed, it was true. And yes, I could supply treats and also cups.
I hung up the phone and stood at the counter tapping my pencil on a pad and looking serious.
“It’s short notice, huh?” Dave asked cautiously. He’s been so worried about me.
I continued to look serious.
“Are you mad?”
“Mad? Are you kidding? I just saw my Bat Signal, dude. I’m getting to work!”
I actually LOVE party-doing, treat-making stuff, even at the last minute. My only concern was that I didn’t have enough time to come up with 1) something mind-blowingly awesome the likes of which the third grade Fall party has never seen before and/or 2) something so labor intensive and elaborate that, even if it’s been done before, there could be no denying it’s (and by virtue, my) awesomeness.
Julia recommended I go with the Frankenmallows I’d made for her preschool class. The fact that she’d remembered them after four years (that’s half her lifetime!) and that they didn’t require baking solidified them as The Best Option.
And because they didn’t seem like quite enough, we also made Strawberry Ghosts.
We call them Straw-Boo-eys!
It’s funny how the simplest things can lift you up.
And minus one epic meltdown on behalf of Bee…
(In her defense, she’d just had her face stepped on in the corn box. Here she is pre-face sqashing:
(Notice the fat lower lip, complete with bloody wounds. Also the toe prints on her right cheek.) Poor kid.)
…much fun was had.
Just as the place was getting ready to close, we decided to squeeze in one more activity and cashed in our tickets for potatoes to see how far we could launch them in The Spud Slinger (picture circa 2010). Lucy and I went first and slung a spud a little over 50 feet! Dave and Julia went next. Now, Dave is extraordinarily competitive and wanted to be sure he beat our 50 foot slingshot by a lot, so he pulled the slinger back, back, way back until he was almost sitting on the ground. “I’m really gonna launch this thing,” he said with a wink and let go. The leather pocket propelled the potato forward as the rubber tubing stretched, wobbled for a few seconds, and snapped back, nailing Dave right between the legs with force so great it CUT HIS BLUE JEANS!
And gave him a potato-sized souvenir (if you know what I mean).
We have no idea how far the potato went.