Obligatory cute kids in their costumes entry.
Well, tonight the boys went with my Mom and Dad to go trick-or-treating. They could barely sit still for dinner. As a matter of fact, I can’t swear that they weren’t hovering a few millimeters above their chairs with nervous energy. Tre kept saying, “I’m so excited my stomach hurts. Just a little.” I’m really hoping it is excitement he’s feeling, and not the stomach bug that was going around recently. I keep having visions of him…rejecting all the multi-colored junk he’s just consumed. Keep your fingers crossed for us. Especially around 2 a.m.
Finally, despite my efforts to destroy their lives with black bean soup, dinner was over. They bounced into their costumes. Oh my. Today I wish I could post pictures. Tre was a ninja lord, all swathed in black and blue, and with an impressive plastic sword tied around his waist. He posed and leaped about for effect with great enthusiasm. Max was Batman. He had a fabulous sweeping cape and a Batman mask with the ears sticking up and slits for eyes that would have had a very ominous effect had he not been giggling quite so much. He also very much enjoyed striking poses to display his costume. Raphael was Superman. Of course. I tried to convince him this morning that he wanted to be Winnie the Pooh. After all, I have this adorable fuzzy Pooh costume that would fit him perfectly…and be a lot warmer than the Shoopershirt. “Look, honey,” I said enthusiastically, “you could be Pooh Bear! Wouldn’t that be great?” He sighed at me and patted his belly, upon which he already was wearing the Shoopershirt. “Mama,” he said slowly, as one might to a very stupid child, “Ah. Am. Shooperman.”
So I managed to peel the shirt off him so I could wash it, and tonight he wore it, complete with red cape. Dad kept trying to take pictures of the three of them in their costumes, but Raphael would sing his Shooperman song, “Ah’m Shooperman! Doot, do, do! Doot, do, dooo!” And then he’d take off running and making flying sounds. We managed to stop him from flying away long enough for at least a few pictures, and they were off.
They came home with great hauls of candy and we all sat around the kitchen table and ate …a little. I, for one, am ill. At one point I was digging out the 17th Almond Joy bar from Raphael’s stash and Mom asked me, “You like those things?” I looked at the candy in my hand (FUN SIZE – because apparently fun is 2.5 inches long…who knew?) and groaned, “Not any more.”
Max and Tre engaged in a spirited session of “I’ll trade ya.” I don’t think any trades were made, but the discourse was lively. Raphael sat quietly shoveling candy into his mouth until I wised up and took it away. He’s particularly fond of chocolate eyeballs. I think he ate enough to blind an entire chocolate village. And let me tell you, Raphael on a sugar high is not a pretty sight. Whoo.
But they’re all in bed now, and I’ve had a good hour to recover from my sick stomach, so I think I’ll go dig through their buckets.