I don't think the Bery Scary Spider knew what he was in for. He kept asking "Is it time to go to Halloween? Is it time?" We've been practicing the trick-or-treat concept at the bathroom door, but when it was time to ACTUALLY approach a house, we weren't bery scary after all. Alas, after that first Baby Ruth hit his bucket,a trick-or-treat machine was born.

We met up with pal Bennett and his older sis Savannah, who's Bride of Doom get-up DID NOT impress Ethan.


Both boys had a great time, stayed out until they needed their glow sticks, and after cute little "trick-or-treats!" and "happy halloweens" degraded into "i want some more candy,", we knew it was time to go.


He's only eaten one little thing out of his pumpkin, and I think the act of unloading and reloading is, so far, better than what's in those wrappers.

I only have to carry Elliot for three more months as of today. Atleast he's not crying. And I didn't pass out during my glucose test this time, and I'm not diabetic. All good things.
E