I Smell Candy Approaching

I'll begin my post with WHERE THE FUCK IS AKILAH? Anybody? Anybody? I ain't been seein' that rascal in a few days. Hands cupped together, "AKILAH!" Where is you at? I talked to you nearly everyday, and when I don't I feel like I'm missing something. Then my irrational fears come in to play, and then I start to worry. You know how clumsy you are. I worry that you've hit your head and then forgotten all your bloggy buddies. Yeah, I'm nuts. Put that restraining order down, Miss Priss!! Not scary-stalker-miss you, just I-wonder-what-funny-thing-Akilah's-saying-right-now-kind-of-miss you. Muah. Much love. Hope your head is a-okay.




Moving on.




Ah, Halloween is soon upon us. I started my decorations last night. Tombstones IN the rain. Oh. Yes, Little Bloggies, that's the kind of dedication that only a true nut can put out. Am I the only person that feels the strange urge to punch people in the nose when they say things like, "We don't let our kids participate in Halloween. It's the Devil's holiday." The fuck? That's just bad parenting. DHS should come and take your kids right now. Abuse! I tell you. Kidding, but Halloween fucking rocks, and your kids will not like you very much, and you may need to look into the fact-- you may be involved in a cult.



Moving on.


Typically, I try to keep my kids' sugar intake to a minimum, but on Halloween I let them go BUCK WILD. It's not uncommon to find them in a corner rocking back and forth in a sugar induced trance on Halloween night. Don't judge me. That's the stuff that makes MEMORIES, People!

Good times.

Chubba (age 8) has a sugar laugh. He's had it his whole life BUT ONLY when he's had WAY too much sugar. It's a maniacal, unstable, unmistakable, a little unnerving Sugar Laugh. We call him Pookie when he's gotten to this level of Sugar Delight. It was first notice when he was 4 years old and returned home from a football game with my brother and SIL. My brother literally threw my kid in the front door and tried to run from my doorstep. I vaguely heard the words "didn't mean to" and "giant pixie." Hmm. That's odd.





Turns out Chubba had gotten a hold of (and by gotten a hold of, I mean a certain brother with no regard to my child's dental bill bought) a giant pixie stick and downed the ENTIRE thing in less than a minute. Mkay.




Chubba ran around in a complete circle bellowing out his sugar laugh for 3 hours. Tim and I tried to contain him at first, because we didn't understand what the fuck was going on. We heard something about Pixies in Chubbas crazy laugh, then resolved to just let him run it out. For THREE HOURS, then he cried for more candy. Mmmm-no. My brother who avoided my phone calls that night, denied any wrong doing when reached the following day.



Oh, who am I kidding it was fucking hilarious, and I wish that I'd had a video camera because it was that priceless.



Anywho. So on Halloween, after putting away anything that could possibly be used as a weapon, I let the kids indulge beyond belief to watch them go BANANAS on candy and listen to Chubba's mental patient laugh.



Fat Fat Sucker (age 1) is going to be the Roaming Gnome

The kid in the pic doesn't do the costume justice the way Fat Sucker does. Oh Lord. He actually becomes the Gnome. He's even made up a Gnome dance. Fat Sucker cried when I made the boys take off their costumes last weekend. He clung to his little beard.

Bukka (age 2) will be a cowboy. That's a compromise because of the weapon. Bukka wanted to be a killer with Chubba (age 8), but when I put my rowdy two year old in a mask and handed him a knife. To say it was unsettling was a big understatement. Think Chucky.

So here's me in Wal-Mart trying to reason with a two year old that thinks he's on the same level as his older brothers, while passersby are staring at me-- TOTALLY judging. "Bukka, if you're a cowboy, you can shoot both your brothers all night. Doesn't that sound like fun? No? Okay- I'll even let you use the blanks that we've been hiding from you in Chubba's underwear drawer. AND I'll make Chubba fall down every time you shoot him. A cowboys sounds like fun. Doesn't it? I bet everyone wishes they could be a cowboy." While behind my back I'm slowly handing Chubba the serial killer costume Bukka had picked out to throw back on the shelf." It's all about choosing your battles for embarrassment in Wal-Mart. Ya know?

Although, because of his features and demeanor, Bukka doesn't really look like a common cowboy, if you will. More like a Mexican Bandit, which I think is a lot cooler. I've just never been a fan of cowboys. Hopefully, the Midwest conservatives here won't try to deport him.

Everyone get your candy ready, because we're coming. For the candy.