As Barb and I sat on the front stoop on Halloween and handed out candy to the little booger-eaters, we noticed, with no small amount of glee, that the number of kids dressed as blood-spattered psychotic axe-murderers has dwindled and -- I know this is going to sound pathetically sexist, but I can't help it -- a delightful number of boys dressed as Superman and girls dressed as princesses turned out to beg for candy.
Tim was bummed. He's thirteen this year; that's the age he's not allowed to go beg for candy any more. Well, he actually stopped begging for candy quite a while ago, and now he just takes it. Maybe it's the costume he misses most.
I was supposed to be at a party after we handed out the Halloween goodies, but a funny thing happened -- I fell asleep! I brushed the chocolate off my teeth, changed my clothes, and then, because I had a half-hour or so before I wanted to show up, I "rested my eyes," as my Dad would have put it, except that, when he did it, he meant that he was going to sleep for a while. I meant to just bank the fires, so to speak, but when Tim woke me up more than an hour later to complain that my snoring was bugging him, my fires were out, the boiler was cold, and there was no steam left to get going. I was so cross-eyed and lifeless that never made it to the party that night.
The kitten got fixed last week. The vet had to staple one of those funnels around her head to keep her from pulling out the stitches, AND IT'S DRIVING HER CRAZY!