I picked the boys up from school. Search had soggy pants and a bulge at the bottom of his pants leg. Out fell his diaper. The kid had removed his diaper from WITHIN his pants. So this is how we were going to kick of an evening of costumes huh?
Mad skillz, yo.
The ghouls and goblins were getting an early start.
We dressed up our little dragon dinos and headed out on the town to amass mass quantities of sugary desirables. Or, the now world famous Search and Destroy toddled on down the street with their entourage.
When I was a small peoples, I was convinced Halloween was the motherload. COLLECT ALL THE CANDY. In retrospect, I’ve come to learn we only hit about 10 houses on the block.
One year, one of such houses contained the wolfman. It’s a quarter century after the fact and I still remember it vividly – the creepy man leaping out the door in a furry canine mask with a ferocious growl. There was no going back to that house. Ever.
At least this year I had fire-breathing rawring dragons to protect me from scary dudes who feel the need to terrify young children. On second thought…this may not work out so well.
We trudged down the street. At the first house our little reptilian heroes were a bit tongue-tied. They just stared. It took a couple houses to get them to open up.
Me: What do you say little man?
Destroy: …
Search: …
Jon: <whispering> Say “trick-or-treat.”
Destroy: Please candy?
Search: RAWR!
Destroy: Search, no rawr. RAWR!
We picked up some steam as we marched down the street. Neither kiddo seemed real pleased when I made them stop for some sunset photo ops. Especially because one of the houses was rumored to have Teddy Grahams.
By the time we hit the opposite side of the street, we’d hit our stride. Almost. Destroy would announce trick-or-treat when prompted and then try to enter the premises. Clearly our rehearsal backfired.
Search exited one house and headed back from whence we’d come. So he’s clearly inherited his mother’s stellar directional abilities.
All turned around, my little man looked up at me. “All done. Go home.”
We had one last house to hit. “You may not recognize these boys since they’re big giant dragons, but you’re the NICU nurse who discharged Destroy. Thank you.”
And with that, Jon and I carried two tired tiny dragons back home. Where they proceeded to proclaim, “I NEED CHOCOLATE!”
Yeah. They’re mine.
Yup, sounds like fun! It will just keep getting better for the next 10 years or so. But when they’re teens they HAVE to wear something that resembles a costume or they’re getting nothing!