roar.

Let's just say that the costume was a tad too big and the B-man hated it. He doesn't even like it when we put on his clothes, so to think he'd want an enormously large costume on over his clothes and covering his face is pretty much laughable.

We got about 20 minutes out of it before the waterworks started. And then another 10 minutes when we went to Chipotle for dinner (hello $2 burritos).

For what it's worth, here is B's first attempt at celebrating Halloween.

I don't hate it yet, but don't you dare connect those two pieces of velcro. I will scream. 

shoe half off and the backside of a lion

Get. this. off. of. me. or you'll really hear me roar.

In true dork fashion, I tallied up how many trick or treaters we had this evening {98 between the hours of 3:30-6:30} and how many we had each hour. The 5-6 p.m. hour was a hot ticket and anything past 6 in our neighborhood was questionable. Also, my neighbor told me she hands out full candy bars, making me want to step up my game when B is finally reaping the benefits of trick-or-treating. Also, the older kids who wore lame costumes and were questionably too old to be going door-to-door got Mounds and Almond Joy candy bars. Because... um... those are the bottom of the candy barrel. Plus, they scared a little boy away and that made me sad. Punishment in the form of crappy candy.

Last year we didn't celebrate and went out to dinner instead. I couldn't deal with having trick-or-treaters and being pregnant with neighbors hounding me about the baby when all I wanted to do was crawl into a hole. We didn't buy pumpkins this year like we did when I was largely pregnant and anticipating our Andrew, but we did hang a little, blinking pumpkin on our door-- the only Halloween decoration we physically own. It's old school, circa my first apartment back in 2001.

We're celebrating this year, but only because of Benjamin. Holidays still suck the emotions out of me a bit.

Happy Halloween, everyone. Here's to hoping it's happy-ish wherever you're at.