Halloween 2 - Presidential Carnage
My good-weather karma failed me big time, with a steady, messy downpour hitting right at school pick-up time yesterday, and continuing on all night long.
Our trick-or-treat meetup plans fell by the wayside as all our friends basically informed their kids that they would hit a few houses and call it a night, and they weren't driving anywhere to meet up with anyone. We all knew it was going to be miserable, but we costumed up anyway, and dug out our umbrellas and marched out.
Remember how I said my youngest was going to be the Creeper - the box-headed thing? Yeah, well, I decided that since it was raining, and the box was cardboard and vision-impaired, that she couldn't be the Creeper. Lucky for her, we had an extra Abe Lincoln beard and top hat and a black blazer and a striped shirt.
By the time we made it out the door, we were already frazzled. We all stepped in countless puddles, and skidded on wet leaves, and basically made ourselves cranky as we made our way to the few houses who seemed to be willing to deal with trick-or-treaters. Beards started unsticking,
Of course, I didn't want to bring my good camera, so I was trying to use my iPhone to get photos. Here's the best of the bunch:
Hahaha look at those wet Lincoln-Lauckers. Best slacker mom costume ever!
Here's my oldest, as a blonde goth:
That last one was taken moments before said blonde goth took a header on a wet walkway and opened up a nasty scrape on her palm and banged up both wrists and her side and a knee. You know we Trick-Or-Treat HARDCORE around here. We come home soaking wet, bloody and bruised! THUG LIFE 4EVA! After that (a mere 10 houses or so in) we just gave up. It just wasn't any fun.
Limping home, my oldest kept a running narrative going about how feeling was returning and now everything hurt and oh no what the heck and she thought she might cry and then she cried for a minute but then she stopped. We put injury girl in the shower and applied a judicious layer of arnica and bandaids, and then put everyone into pajamas. The Lincoln Twins and Goth Barbie (or whatever she was) dumped out their meager haul, ate a piece or two and then collapsed in bed.
We didn't get a single Mounds or Almond Joy either. Or Butterfingers. Man.