Then comes the day itself. Costumes are never done. There is the inevitable tussle with the boy, who has had his heart set on something like being a bird, but suddenly wants nothing to do with face makeup or hair products, even though he has hair down to his shoulders...
And the girl who insisted on doing it all herself this year, but now has a dozen last minute ideas and adjustments that need to be implemented that she had "forgotten" to mention to me. And that isn't even talking about the fact she needs some wild hair do created to match whatever kind of fey creature she is being this year, or the truly fantastical make-up she wants.
And inevitably, we are frantically back-combing and applying false lashes as Dad is dragging them bodily out the door.
All of this is going on in the midst of the hyper excitement of them anticipating the dark journey through the streets of the neighborhood in search of the Ultimate Treat. I am not sure if they've ever actually found The Ultimate Treat. I don't know if even they know what it is. But the insanity the bouncing off the walls and ceiling, the hyper activity that goes on from the moment they hop out of bed to the moment they are herded out the door is enough to make me really, really want a drink.
|Little Miss Fey Herself|
Then, sugar crash. Oh yes. The next day. it sucks if Halloween falls in the middle of the week. It would suck less if we could ship the miserable little imps off to a classroom and a teacher who can pull her hair out for a day, but no. We chose to home school. We chose the excellent option of dealing with the Day After Halloween ourselves. Go us. What a spectacular idea that was.
Good thing we have eighty pounds of chocolate melting in buckets on top of our refrigerator...