So you know how Sunday is supposed to be the day of rest?
It so wasn't.
At nine in the morning our doorbell rang. I was in the bathroom and I decided to ignore it. I knew it was a kid from the annoying way he kept laying onto the doorbell. It would be long stretches followed by short ones followed by a pound on the door.
I figured the kid would get the point and leave. I didn't feel like answering because A) it was the day of rest and way too early to converse and B) it was the day of rest and I didn't feel like dealing with other people's children.
Here's the thing though: the kid did NOT get the point and leave.
He kept ringing the bell. Long after I was finished using the bathroom.
He ended up waking Tom up. And Tom was not amused. He stomped down the stairs and was all, "I'm going to tell that kid--" and I grabbed his arm and stopped him because I knew if Tom opened the door he'd probably shout an expletive and then the kid would run and tell Mommy and Daddy and then said Mommy and Daddy would be pounding on our door demanding to know why we felt the need to use the f-word in front of Junior.
And then my entire Sunday would be a bust. So I told Tom I'd just answer the door.
I opened it and the kid was all, "Oh hi!" as though he hadn't been going crazy with the doorbell and banging the door down with his little fist.
"Can Tommy play?" he asked.
What I wanted to do was get down to his level and hiss, "You little shit. It's NINE in the MORNING on the day of rest. When someone doesn't answer the door the first time you get the point and you LEAVE. Now unless you want me to grab you by the ankles and swing you around my head, I suggest you LEAVE."
What I said was, "No. We're going somewhere. It's a little early," I added in my best polite voice.
The kid pouted. Great. I don't like it when my own kids pout and I hate it even more when other people's kids pout.
"But..but can he play for a little bit?" he pressed.
I nearly had the door shut in his face. I had to pause and say, "No. He can come out when we get back," and then I managed to shut the door.
I mean geez.
Nine in the MORNING on a Sunday.
I was not pleased afterwards. Tom wasn't either. He wanted to march over to that kid's house and ask his parents what they were thinking letting him come over so early.
I talked him out of it.
The last thing I want to be known as are the Grumps on the Street.
Even though we like SO are.
But anyhow, I'll go back to Friday. Halloween.
Tommy was excited all day and kept asking when it was time to go.
We were going to the base clinic at 4 since they were passing out candy there.
When it finally rolled around to 4 we got into costumes and headed off.
Apparently half the base thought going to the clinic was a good idea too. Because there was a line stretched out to get in.
We got in line and inched along towards the entrance.
My arm started to ache and I tried to set Natalie down and get her to walk while holding onto my hand.
The second I set her down she tried to take off on me.
Apparently I only give birth to kids who don't like to hold still.
So I had to hold her the entire time and let me tell you, my arm was in pain.
We went around the clinic and the kids were given a good amount of candy.
There was a little haunted house in the back that Tommy wanted to do. I figured it would be okay so we went in and all was well until someone leaped out.
Tommy went, "Why did you DO that?" and was terribly insulted at being given such a fright.
But when we were out of the haunted house he claimed he wasn't scared at all, that he was just pretending.
Finally we were done and I was able to set Natalie down into her carseat.
My poor sore arms.
I picked up McDonalds for dinner--mmm nuggets--and I won nothing on Monopoly.
Then it was about time to take the kids Trick or Treating.
Natalie refused to say Trick or Treat but she did say hi and bye.
Here are the kids in their costumes:
Tommy picked out this costume awhile back.
It was hard to take pictures because he kept moving.
They got a lot of candy:
I've been pigging out on it. Because Tommy doesn't like most of his candy and Natalie could care less. All she wants are the Pop-Pops. (Lollipops.)
I've been happily walking around with their buckets tucked under my arm, rooting through all the candy and pulling out all the mini candy bars.
Mmmm mini Baby Ruth's rock.