A few weeks ago, a little thing called Halloween happened. Maybe you heard about it.
Where we live, Halloween happens on the last day of October. And by happens, I mean is celebrated and by is celebrated I mean trick-or-treating starts at dark on the 31st of October even if it is a school night. Which, I think, is crap. I refuse to let my children stay up late collecting and eating candy on a school night because they are monsters without sleep. And I don’t mean the cute kind with plastic ears and polyester jumpsuits; I mean the kind that are so scary you consider not letting your children celebrate Halloween at all.
But then I had a brilliant idea.
On Saturday, the day before the last day of October, we got the kids all dressed up and took them to a local Halloween festival at the private school one of their friends attends. The festival was absolutely free and included roughly 38 free bounce houses and carnival-style games with tootsie roll prizes. There was also a “hay ride”, but I put that phrase in quotes because a couple of bales on the back of a flatbed trailer that pulls you around a baseball diamond does not a hay ride make, my friends. But anyway…
Costumes. Games. Candy.
On the Saturday before Halloween.
(Ok, fine, those last two aren’t mine. But they sure are cute!)
1,000 points if you can tell what Devin was.
None of us have a clue.