This was the Tiny Dark Lord's first real Halloween. (We sort of skipped it last year, not in small part because the baby was being a cranky not-napping-pants and we put him to bed at 6pm. Then I kept trying to flag down kids to come trick-or-treat at our apartment but it seemed none of them wanted to descend into the spider lair.)
I think this year went better. We borrowed a giraffe costume from a cousin, bought a $1 plastic pumpkin bucket at Wal-Mart, and I trained the Dark Lord for the upcoming event by occasionally tossing handfuls of chocolate chips into the bucket. I'm a regular Bela Karolyi (if you replace "chocolate chips" with "psychological abuse").
We did the trick or treating thing, TDL wore his costume, he totally got the whole "take candy from bowl and place in bucket" concept, he played with the dressed-up local cousins on both sides of our family, and we had a really nice time.
Only now he keeps pointing at the candy bowl and making the sign for "chocolate" at me.
|Geek points if you can guess GH's costume!|
I bought these to go with my costume, and they were marked "One Size Fits Most [Eight-Year-Old Girls]." The stupid things were way, way too small, with a waistband that in no way wanted to be acquainted with my waist. This is how I eventually ended up walking around Wal-Mart with the waistband down below my rear like the youths of Cher's generation that she so rightly traitored. I tried to hike them up in the parking lot beforehand but just stopped because I could not bear to be The Lady Hiking up her Pantyhose in the Wal-Mart Parking lot. I couldn't just take them off because I haven't shaved my legs since September (ladies, you know what I'm talking about) and my costume was supposed to be witch, not Sasquatch in Drag.
I swear most of my worst moments happen at Wal-Mart. It's like they just leave the bar so very low, so whey even bother? Anyway. I walked around in Wammart, knowing that if my tights wiggled down any further I would soon be hobbling with the things around my knees and would probably end up on one of those "spotted at Wal-Mart" websites. Also the crotch had already ripped out during my most recent round of "do the pantyhose hike" dance. So that added to the overall class factor.
I ditched the tights when I got home from running errands, and took the wig off for a breather. I think TDL had assumed the purple hair was here to stay, which is why he kept giving me doubtful, betrayed looks. But when I went in to get him from his nap and he saw my regular hair he was beyond thrilled and kept grabbing my head in his fists and giving me tight hugs and kisses. So I guess we knew which he prefers.