Sam was something undefined, but SCARY AS ALL GET OUT and moderately Steam Punk, if Steam Punk would be so kind as to make room for the possibility of enormous laser-guns. Maisy was a Heart-Sparkle-Diamond Glamour Witch. Those are not, by the way, orange contacts.That is just the natural, fiery gleam of CANDY AVARICE lighting her up from within.
Sam Trick-Or-Treated this year, even though LAST YEAR he was waaaay too grown up to be bothered with it. This year, it become retro-chic or something, and he headed off into the night armed with a Target bag and his friend Conan the Barbarian, who is known as Nick on days when he is NOT wearing a shaggy black wig and a toga like battle draping and toting a broad sword.
Our holiday began SUNDAY, when we all realized we had FORGOTTEN Monday was Halloween, so we all said, OH OOPS! PUMPKIN CARVING should happen! And Candy, as trickertreatsers might come.
We went to Publix and ALL THREE Krogers and no one had any pumpkins. At all. The closest Kroger didn’t have blue corns, or even a single one of those hideous warty gourds left. There was hardly any candy. We had to get Sweet Tarts crap, and Scott said, “This means we are going to end up with a mailbox fulla EGGS, you know that right?”
I don’t understand stores or shopping or people. Some hideous elf has puked endless amounts of Christmas all over the Eckerd, and MEANWHILE here is real life it is NOVEMBER, and I have yet to think, “Maybe I need a Turkey or something?” When I do finally REALY think that? Weeks from now? There won’t be a turkey bird, living or dead, in a 50 mile radius, and half the Christmas crap will have been purchased by insane people.
STOP BUYING CHRISTMAS STUFF until December. If we ALL agreed to do this they would STOP the MADNESS putting out Christmas Tree peeps and blowing up the inflatable Baby Jesus in November!
Because everyone does it all the time, not just for holidays. I go to Beach Week with my family every year in JULY, which is the MIDDLE fo summer, and yet I always have THE most hideous bathing suits because I wait til beach week is upon me and then I have to pick among the six ugly MeeMaw suits left at the Redneck Target. Meanwhile, the mall stores are full of Fall Leggings.
Finally we gave up and went all the way out to this hatefully far punkin patch in EGYPT that had the punkin equivalent of the six hatefully ugly meemaw suits—-lumpy warty malformed Pumpkinstrosities. But we carved em up ANYWAY! Can you guess which child designed what punkin?
Hint: Our kids clearly favor a traditional gender role Halloween, here, where the girls are super sparkly and the boys are armed-n-dangerous.
I decided to go as a mummy. Or at least a MUMMY HAND.
I was making cornbread for dinner, this particularly LOVELY kind. You put the cast iron skillet in a the oven for 15 minutes, then melt butter in it, then drop the batter in to butterfry the edges all crispy and delightful, and then bake it. What you DO NOT DO is put on an oven mitt, pull it from the oven, take OFF the oven mitt, pour in the batter, GRAB the blazingly hot iron handle to put it back, scream profanities, hurl the pan to the floor and leap around howling with second degree burns rising up all over ones thumb and pointer finger.
Unless you are me. Then you do EXACTLY that.
Happy Halloween, and according to Dr. Google, the best treatment for All Hallows Eve burns is, “steal your children’s mini-Butterfingers while they are at school.”
So. Imma go go treat myself. *rimshot* SEE WHAT I DID THERE????