I admit it. I'm not a fan of Halloween. Oh, I like the holiday just fine. It's just the dressing up and having to escort the under-aged dressed up that I'm not a fan of.
Sprite's school had their annual Fall Festival on Friday. We came, we saw, we borrowed Kayla's daddy (John was working late) to carry Sprite through the puddled streets since it had been raining all day and getting to the venue was akin to boarding a water ride, one you had no idea would begin at any moment as you stepped across the street. Despite some near misses, we arrived safely and had a great time, closing the place down. Sprite wore her Alice in Wonderland costume proudly, not once mentioning how her brunette hair was detracting from the overall "Alice-ness" of the look.
On Saturday, I had sent Sprite off with her dad for the morning since I would be taking her trick or treating at the mall later in the day while he worked (yet again). I'm not sure what their conversation consisted of as they went off on their errands, but allegedly, she had confided in her father that the lack of blonde wig was influencing her portrayal of a cartoon character and she needed her motivation to believe she was following a white rabbit.
Honey, millions of people followed the white rabbit back in the 60's and 70's without any motivation at all. But let's digress from that. (Sprite, if you're reading this at any point before the age of 18, you will probably need to wait until you're at least the age of legal before I explain it.)
They came back with a blonde wig. A wig that actually cost more than we had paid for the dress and the shoes AND the headband. Oy.
Let me be honest here. I don't like this picture. The smile did not make it to her eyes, and that puts me off. Yes, I can not like my own child's photo once in a while. However, Blue saves the photo by making a cameo and possibly looking for dog treats.
Let's also keep in mind that the wig is for ADULTS. John tried on the wig. It fit. (No, he wouldn't let me take a picture. His pride is worth so much, people.) I tried on the wig. It didn't fit. Sprite tried on the wig, it didn't fit, but she was determined to make it work. (This also confirms she got SOMETHING from me, if only in the head circumference shallow end of the gene pool.)
We did at least get one worthy shot out of the bunch, and while you can still see the brunette playing peek-a-boo through the sides, the blonde does its job. Of course, once she turned around, the currently trendy two tone look reared its head since, while the wig was stationed toward the front, there was a lack of coverage in the back.
(Memo to self, paint the front door. It's been three years already since you installed it. Don't you think you should FINISH it?) (Yes, my memos have more snark than Siri.)
With the wig precariously in place, honestly, a good gust of wind would have made off with the damn thing since the headband was the only thing holding it down, we drove over to the mall to meet up with Rachel, her girls, and a few other friends of theirs to join Malloween. (I don't think they call it that. They should.)
As soon as we entered the covered play area and Sprite saw her friends Lilli and Elizabeth, the wig was off and she was running toward the slide.
Luckily, I was able to slap the hair piece back on and hope for the best when it came time to do the actual trick or treating.
Fast forward thirty minutes, when we had only combed through one wing of the large outdoor mall (there were two more just spilling over with employees ready to hand out treats), Sprite thankfully announced she didn't want any more candy, coincidentally just after I had asked Rachel how many more years we would need to invest in costumes before Sprite would consider it passe. (It seems ten more years is a good number. A good round number. A LONG number.)
Now, here's what I don't like about escorting Sprite around in costume. I am not in costume. I am usually hovering somewhere close by yelling out "Say thank you!" as she grabs her Snickers and runs. I am usually prodding her to move on while she wants to stop and examine EVERY. PIECE. OF. CANDY that enters her orange bucket. I am also usually the one who has to break her little candy loving heart when I pull the "keep 10 pieces and the rest goes" rule out of my ass and drop it on her mere minutes after she enters the house with her take of the taffy. I become impatient with the entire process, finding it difficult to engage in the fun, lose myself in the merriment.
Meh, I'm totally scrooging on her buzz. I promise, next year, I'll be better.
And John will take her trick or treating.
There. Much better.
Trick or treat! Take a seat! I've got some Spinners you need to meet...
Eileen over at Giving Her All She's Got -New to the Spin Cycle!
Mrs. Bear over at Outnumbered Two To One -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!
Ginny Marie over at Lemon Drop Pie -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!
The Spin Cycle is taking a break for the month of November as my family tries to fit a birthday, an anniversary, a vacation, and Thanksgiving into 30 days. Oh, wait. 26 days. We're already four down. Crap! I gots things to do!
Have a wonderful Thanksgiving and we'll be back in December with another Spin Cycle and a return of the Spin Cycle Secret Santa!
Much love and happiness to you all.
Oh, and snark too. Never forget the snark.