Since I wrote last week about not liking Halloween, a few of you emailed me asking about what, exactly, we did on Halloween. Did we get the heck out of Dodge like I'd hoped?
Yes, as a matter of fact we did.
I left work early because Halloween is typically one of the worst afternoon commutes of the year. My commute wasn't too bad, so I arrived home earlier than I thought, as did Doug. That gave us time to change out of work clothes and gather our wits before picking Adam up from daycare.
By then it was about 5:30 so we got the boy and headed directly for the nearest Mexican restaurant and a couple of tall, frozen margaritas.
In no time at all we'd gotten our meal and settled Adam in a booster seat next to me with some rice, chips and cheese dip. I won't go into the details of the near meltdown he had when we tried to sit him in a high chair. I almost offered him a big swig of my margarita just to calm him down.
Just as I was beginning to thoroughly enjoy my tacos, Adam started his dinner time drama. The child just will not eat. Even when cheese dip is involved.
He spent the rest of the meal trying to stand up in the booster seat, spilling food on me, and yelling, No, Mama! No, Daddy! while jabbing his finger in the air like a little dictator. Needless to say, we wrapped up dinner pretty quickly. I didn't finish all my tacos, but you can be sure I didn't leave a drop of my margarita behind.
It was too early to go home. "They'll still be trick-or-treating", we said. So, we headed to Publix to get groceries for the weekend. While I shopped, Doug took Adam to see the BIG! DIDDER! (digger) sitting in a nearby parking lot.
I had nearly 30 minutes of pure, uninterrupted bliss amidst the produce and frozen foods.
By the time we pulled into our neighborhood Adam was on his third or fourth tantrum of the night for reasons I have long forgotten. I told you that I just walk away when he starts in. But we didn't think leaving him in the Publix parking lot alone with the BIG! DIDDER! would be the right thing to do.
All screaming ceased when he spied all the little ghosts and goblins still out perusing for treats. We passed the house that sets up a cotton candy machine in their yard. It's a virtual black and orange suburban carnival.
The next day when I picked Adam up at daycare after work, Avery, the little 4-year old neighbor girl yelled to me from the playground like she does every day.
Hey, Adam's mommy. You didn't have any candy for me last night.
Sorry. We weren't home.
I asked my mommy why you didn't have any candy. She said your house was dark.
We weren't home.
I was so sad. I didn't know why you weren't there.
Great. A guilt trip from a 4-year old delivered from atop the monkey bars.
I'm sure she'll never let me live it down.