Jr BEGGED The Mr to blow up the Minion “just one more time” after Halloween. This happened. Look dude, when vampire Minion passes out off his pumpkin on the front lawn, Halloween is over, m’kay?
It’s snowing. Along the Colorado front range tonight, it is FINALLY snowing.
Thank goodness – maybe it will serve to usher out what I have started referring to as our “Halloween Hangover.”
This year, in this house, Halloween just won’t freaking die.
Jr has been busting out costumes (or random parts of costumes) from the stash in his dress-up corner, and emerging from the basement play area to “trick or treat” though out the house. He sets up stuffed friends with craft pom-poms at various locations and proceeds through the house collecting the pom-poms in his PB Kids personalized jack-o-lantern bag, and then comes back to the TV room for “the Halloween party.”
This party involves playing the Peanuts theme song and dancing. Over and over.
And over.
Don’t get me wrong – I totally believe in the Great Pumpkin, and I am strangely proud of how long a 5 year old can ration a candy supply (1 piece in his lunch, 2 pieces after school,) but let’s move Spookley off the top of the toy bin and start shining the play stove to cook up some Turkey, eh?
OR – if we MUST – then at least relent to letting mom pack up the colorful leaves and decorative gourds in favor of mistletoe and tinsel and stockings hung by the chimney with care, shall we?
We have had years of being fairly frightened of Halloween. Last year I had to carry him out of the garage kicking and screaming to get the trick-or-treat train movin’ around our ‘hood. This year suddenly he is determined to see it last for.ev.errrrrrrrr.
The ridiculously warm weather has been no small contributing factor, I think. I mean, it still LOOKS like Halloween outside – all leaves crunching under his little feet and clear blue sky against not-quite-yet-bare trees. I get it, I really do.
But I am not here for it anymore, people.
The minute we got him home from school, I dressed him up like Ralph’s little brother in A Christmas Story and shot him out the back door to frolic in the 1/2 inch or so that had accumulated thus far. Because we are moving on, yo.
MOVING. ON.
So snow on, snow storm…. blow the Halloween Hangover from these halls, pronto.
Reluctantly Suburban 