cherydactyl

I finally had my first few trick-or-treaters, at 10 to 7 pm. At that point, my own kids had been out for nearly an hour, in the other, newer part of the neighborhood.

M is a black cat: black pants, black fleece over white tee, white gloves, black cat ears, drawn-on nose and whiskers.

S is "Little Miss Smarty Pants;" Her pants have Smarties sewn on all over them. Though she ate more of them than she sewed on while making the costume. A few ended up in the treat basket in the end.

I am in full Mad Scientist regalia. White lab coat: check. Blue spiky hair: check. Blue nail polish: check. Yellow rubber gloves: check.

Treatses: candy, bubbles, temporary tattoos, more candy, bouncy balls, small toys, even more candy. check.

Kids: even fewer than last year. Now, at 8:05 pm, I have turned out my lights, and the basket of treats is still more than half full, even though I was encouraging kids to take several items each. This devolved into handfuls for the last couple of groups. It was over 60 degrees when the evening started; you'd think there would have been lots of kids out. We need to move, I swear. This is not the right neighborhood.

I lost one of my rubber gloves somewhere.

Time to go wash my hair to get the blue gunk out.