So, I'm guessing you've heard of Murphy's Law, right?
My kids are 11 and 13. Some people would say they are too old for trick-or-treating. But that is something you just don't really grow out of here. As far as I'm concerned, if you'll put on a costume, I'll give you candy. But at 13, my daughter's friends are on that iffy border. And the friend she has always trick-or-treated with- and who has been planning with her for months- came by last night to say she was going to a party tonight instead. Oof! To her credit, my daughter was fine with this. And she was ecstatic when this same friend invited her to go over to U of D with her mom and her today to hear Joe Biden. Until the phone call this morning. Can't go, her mom's sick. I will not even try to describe to you the scene this news produced in my house.
All I wanted to do was go back to bed, because you see... I am sick too. In a kicking-my-butt-please-put-me-out-of-my-misery kind of way. You know, where you are waiting to see which will happen first: yours eyes bursting into flame or your sinuses exploding. But! This is Halloween! So, we take our skeleton- which arrived yesterday afternoon- out to the toilet by the front door... And apparently, one gets a bit stiff at the skeleton stage. We could not get this guy to bend in the appropriate way to mimic vomiting into the toilet. And his hands are sort of on backwards. Cheap damn skeleton. So, we just propped him up on the toilet and had him hold the bowl of candy. It seems to be all he's good for. But, people find him hysterical. They take his picture. They laugh belly laughs. And I don't have to spread my germs to innocent kiddos. Plus, I tossed a couple glow sticks in the toilet bowl, so he's got a bit of a green glow from below. I'll try to get a picture of that later. But don't hold your breath. For now, this is my handy helper...