Sunday, October 31, 2010

Costume wars

This blog post is sponsored by today's cancellation with less than 24 hours notice. It is circumstantial compensation, sure, but I'm amused by the idea of being a paid writer. Anyone who can craft a noun phrase like that should be remunerated, don't you think?

It's Halloween. My pumpkins survived the night.

Thea is a chagrined ladybug who violently rejects the antenna doctrine. I really want to force them onto her head though, and I'm fighting with my better nature. Believe me, I have no illusions about this... the costume is for my benefit... and it's really just too bad she is too young for coercion and/or bribery and/or threats because maybe we could come to some kind of truce in which I win.

I've been chasing her around the house with a camera begging her to hold still long enough to have her picture taken at the very least. Begging doesn't work either. I think her costume will probably be in tatters before long and I'm just going to have to pick up the pieces and, you know...

...keep trying to shove them onto her.

Wish me luck!


eclectic said...

Ladybug!! So cute!

Roy said...

Little kids look so damn cute with antennas.

So, how much candy did you get? Did you weigh it? Did you preemptively eat the ones that were going to be bad for Thea? Like a good mother?

asha said...

So so very cute.

And congratulations on the paid writing gig. My brother averaged the money I'd made from poetry at one point, oh so many years ago. I think then it turned out to be something under a dollar an hour. Maybe eight cents an hour spread out over several years? Can't remember. Anyway... now, some 25 plus years later, I think it has probably devolved into negative numbers, which are interesting in themselves but make for a dismal wage.

Kristiana said...

we didn't even get that far. we went to the kid parade and that was about all we could handle.

she flung herself out of a chair having pizza after the parade, and after catching her breath almost immediately fell asleep in my arms. by the time we got home it was a total disaster, screaming at the suggestion of milk, screaming at the removal of milk.

there was a brief respite from the outrage when a little girl her own age came to the door dressed as a cow and they just stared at each other. then back to the screaming.

she screamed for more than an hour and a half past her bedtime no matter what we did. tylenol, cuddles, hugs, songs, dim lights and a warm fire. it was so crazy! the trick-or-treaters were not in the least bit phased. she just blended in with the holiday celebration.

she finally fell asleep and woke up the next day with a whole new molar. when i looked at the parade photos later, which i took by holding the camera out in front of her while i walked holding her hand, i was horrified by the expression of pain on her face, but at the time i didn't know, couldn't see. when i bent down to look at her she just smiled at me, so i had no idea.

i had wanted to take her out trick or treating, but we never made it that far. next year!

however, she wore her antennae for the whole parade.


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