I’m sick. I have the full blown cold thing going on. Painful eyes. Stuffy nose. Sore throat. General feeling of “GO to hell, all of you, now.”
But it’s Halloween.
I promised my kids that we’d watch It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown this morning — and then couldn’t find it.
I attempted to dye Duck’s hair with Kool-Aid and managed to do it – but also dyed his forehead, neck, ears, back, my hands, my wrists, my forearms, several towels and quite possibly our bathtub.
We still haven’t carved our pumpkins and aren’t really sure when we’re going to pull that off. Maybe before our Halloween party today at 1? Maybe after?
I have made arrangements to have some alone time today so I can hit a couple of stores for yarn for Christmas projects, but now I cannot remember what I’m making for the few people I’m knitting for and thus don’t really know what the hell I’m looking for, either.
I’ve made a vow to start eating better (which is pretty hard to do ’cause I’m somewhat of a food freak and obsessively read labels anyhow,) but last night we took the boys to Chuck E. Cheese’s to celebrate Duck’s ability to tie and double knot his shoes. I’m telling you, there is not one decent ingredient in that pizza. NOT. ONE. So of course, the boys win a zillion and twelve tickets and choose to turn them in for Cotton Candy to share. Stealth eats all of his, Duck eats part and declares he’s done. Now, I love cotton candy.I LOVE IT. But healthy? Not so much. Not wanting to load my 5 year old up with more sugar and not wanting to waste it, I ate the rest. And, for good measure, came home and compensated for that by eating 2 tiny boxes of Nerds. I’m on a fucking roll, ya’ll. And I’m sure there will be loads of candy tonight, too. Damn damn damn damn damn.
Hank won’t stop licking Duck’s head. Guess dogs like Orange Kool-Aid
Stealth keeps asking me to make him a REAL lightening bolt scar for his forehead. I keep telling him that I REFUSE to cut his head for a damned costume. I refuse. But I have to tell you, if that kid doesn’t get off my ass soon, he might just get his wish.
I tell you, it’s turning out to be a spooky enough day. Thank Elvis this happens only once a year.