Halloween. It’s a Wrap.

We are dealing with a bit of a Halloween hangover here at the Jedi Manor.

Still.

Twenty-four hours later.

I’m not even sure that I can be counted on to put up a blog post that makes any sense tonight, because I’m on the downside of the Sugar High Rollercoaster.  I’m swearing off the pretzel M&Ms for good now, and Gloria and I will be back together first thing tomorrow morning.  Or perhaps second thing tomorrow morning, because THE EARLY MORNING MANICURE APPOINTMENT WAITS FOR NO GIRL.

This morning, I dreamed that Christy and I were in a Victoria’s Secret store, and we were shopping like we actually had some American dollars to our names.  Oh my, but were we ever shopping.  And I bought BAGS of stuff.  And then Christy and I went to a restaurant, with our bags in tow, where we met a pack of girls for banana margaritas, which I have never, not even once, tried in real life, because HELLO!  I didn’t even know there was such a thing.  And then!  Well, THEN the alarm went off, and I had to wake up, and my first dose of Halloween Hangover Reality is that I had no new pretties to wear from Victoria’s Secret this morning.  Hubs woke up about thirty minutes later, and he said, “I was having the best dream!  I built my own airplane, and I was flying it all over the place, and now I’m awake, and I’m kind of sad that I don’t actually HAVE an airplane.”

There will be no more heavy doses of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups or the pretzel M&Ms before bedtime, ever again.

Until tomorrow, at least.

Halloween started off for us yesterday morning looking a whole lot like this:

For the first time ever, we broke our rule of THERE SHALL BE NO SCARY COSTUMES, which plum thrilled the boy, because LOOK!  A skull mask!  And when you have the testosterone inside of you, skulls are ever-so-very-much cool.  And so are knives.  And grenades.  And matches.  And bazookas.  And aircraft carriers.  And airplanes that you can build all by yourself.  I blame Enzo’s mama for our rule breaking; she bought the mask for the boy, and it brought plenty o’ joy to his young heart.

And then, after wearing it for exactly nineteen seconds, he said, “I cannot breathe in this thing!  All of my dirty exhaled air swirls around my face, and I breathe it back in!”  And so, bless his heart, he chose BREATHING over COOL, and he ditched the mask for the rest of the day.

That ability to actually breathe will win out over most things.

Naturally, the boy had a Halloween party at school, and I showed up for the pretzel M&Ms, which Mrs. M made sure I had plenty of.  Mrs. M has been a blessing unto us this year.

A classroom full of kids hopped up on gummy-worms-and-raw-Halloween-excitement is always so much fun, especially when the Twister game comes out.  Sadly, I have no pictures of the Twister game in action, because I was laughing in a most unladylike way while it was happening and couldn’t hold onto the camera.

The boy’s buddy Carter showed up as a nerd.

Kellen’s mama, Sarah, crashed the party as Luna Lovegood, without her Hogwarts robes.  What cracks me up about this is that Kellen was horribly embarrassed by her wig, and he refused to have his picture taken with his ma, as he hissed, “Your wig is embarrassing!”  But, because it wasn’t HIS mama, the boy FLAT-OUT ADORED Sarah’s costume, and posed multiple times for pictures with her.

Oh, people.  Our boys are reaching THAT AGE.  To make Sarah feel a bit better, I’ll just tell y’all this one thing:  When we went out to trick-or-treat, I donned a beat up cowboy hat to go with my cowgirl boots, and the boy asked, “You’re actually going to wear THAT THING?”

Yes.  Yes, I was.  And next year, I will drive that kid to the front doors of the junior high school building, and I will kiss him soundly OVER AND OVER, right smack in front of the entire 6th, 7th and 8th grade student body.

An Avatar and Pebbles also showed up at the class party, and it was all I could do not to swipe that bright orange wig, because of LOVED IT!

And then!

My love for the orange hair fell by the wayside and was thrown under the bus, because I developed a brand new case of HALLOWEEN COSTUME ENVY.  The boy’s music teacher, who happens to be my darling friend Stephanie V., was…

…DRUM ROLL, PLEASE!…

…Gru!!

As in the one and only Gru, from the cartoon Despicable Me, which is filed away in my list of all-time favorites, right beside Finding Nemo.

What’s even better, is that Stephanie said that her three children were dressed up, too, as Agnes and a couple of Minions.  Sigh.  I told the boy that NEXT YEAR, we will be these characters together.  Just in time for JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL.  Oh, yes!  Suddenly the battered cowboy hat and the Luna Lovegood wig aren’t sounding so bad…

And really?  These boys don’t like their music teacher very much, do they?  Look at those grins!

And here’s a motley crew, if there ever was one.

After school, the boy and his cousins trick-or-treated at Mam and Pa’s house, which is always a good thing to do, because Mam doesn’t waste her dollars on useless candy like Dots.  Or Smarties.  Or stale-and-hardened Bits O’ Honey.  Mam BUYS CHOCOLATE.

Score!

Cousin K was a cat.  Cousin L was a fashion model, straight from the runways in Paris.  I’m pretty sure that her jewelry weighed more than she does last night.  She also got to wear REAL and GENUINE MAKE-UP, which made her eight-year-old world complete.

After Mam and Pa’s house, the boy and Hubs and I headed across town to Enzo’s house, where his parents had put out a little Halloween buffet of goodness, and listen.  PROFESSIONAL CHEF IN THE HOUSE.  Need I say more about the buffet line at Enzo’s house?  It was all I could do not to shout out, “Y’all go trick-or-treating without me!  I’m just going to keep these miniature pigs-in-a-blanket and the hummus dip company!”

Sadly, I heard the unmistakable whine of Gloria shouting out, “RUN NOW,” so I practiced WILLPOWER, and off we went…

…to secure free chocolate.

Here’s little Jonah, who really looked more like a cat burglar than a skeleton, and Enzo, the boy, Bek, Carl and Louden.  (I have no idea what Louden was, but his cardboard box kept falling off of his head all night, which made me howl with the giggles until my sides hurt.)

And here is MOST of our gang of trick-or-treaters.  (At least the ones that we could gather for a quick snapshot, before the marathon down the street started.)

And…

…they were off!

I’m pretty sure that houses were overwhelmed when our gang beat on their doors.  We told the kids, “If the houses offer you Dots, ask them if they’re holding out on you.  Ask for the chocolate that’s hiding in their kitchens!”

And then Hubs said, “Hey!  I LIKE Dots!”

Hubs, no one else likes to eat gooey Crayons disguised as candy in a box labeled DOTS!

And here’s the cutest pirate EVER!

And Foster was adorable, as usual.

By the end of the night, we had eighteen children in our group, and eight grown-ups.  We had to keep telling the kids, “Trick-or-treating is a MARATHON!  It’s not a SPRINT.  You have to pace yourselves!”

They simply sprinted the marathon.

We managed to come away with enough candy to cause a cavity epidemic in the free world.

And then we went back to Enzo’s house, because there were still miniature pigs-in-a-blanket and homemade hummus on the buffet line.

I think it’s pretty safe to say that I probably wouldn’t have actually FIT into anything Christy and I bought at the dreamland Victoria’s Secret.

Welcome to November, people.  11.1.11.  How cool is that?

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