Every year around August I start considering how wonderful Halloween is going to be. I’m going to decorate the house. I’m going to meticulously carve evil and/or happy pumpkins. Our costumes will be well thought out and bought before late September. It is going to be awesome. And each year it winds up like this. And like this.
This year though we decorated early in October with donated cobwebs and spiders (because my mother-in-law is a better person than you and me and the rest of the world. Accept it).
Macy’s, however, has clearly been smoking the good weed since late September because this is what I saw when I was there then:
Bullshit, Macy’s. Stop it.
I never bought myself a costume this year. The day before Halloween we went into the dreaded abyss of Party City. People are serious about their last minute ghoul purchases. We came out with half of a Buzz Lightyear costume and a black cape. The boy was the former and the middle girl was a vampire donning the ladder. The oldest girl, well, she decided at the last minute that yes, yes I am going to join what seems like fun. She was a Harajuku girl. I have no idea if that is somehow inappropriate or offensive. Don’t think about it. My husband went as a daddy. And me? This is me. Because.
There are no pictures of the kids. Also because.