Happy Almond Joys for Mama Day!

I think I was 8 or 9.  Maybe 10.  Whichever it was, it was the Christmas that I got my Barbi furniture.  I remember because I opened my presents prostrate on the couch with my head halfway hanging in a throw-up bucket. 

And it stunk. 

There possibly is nothing worse than being sick on a holiday.  And I'm not talking Columbus Day or Boxing Day.  I'm talking the Holy Grails of Holidays.  The Big 5.  The Fiestas of Fun.  The Big Kahunas. 

1)  Nothing worse than being sick on Christmas.  Numero Uno Worse-o.
2)  Then comes Halloween.  Costumes and candy, man, c'mon.
3)  Next is Thanksgiving.  Because then your sister gets to eat your slice of Nanny's cherry pie...not that I'm bitter or anything.
4)  Then it's Easter.  More candy.  And a bunch of eggs that your mom won't let you hunt for the sake of the other children's health.  Bah.Hum.Bug.
5)  Then to make it an even 5....Fourth of July.  Because that usually involves swimming and fireworks and hot dogs, and it just stinks to be stuck in the house in the summer.

No matter how you cut the holiday ham, being sick on those certain calendar days just stinks a whole heck of a lot more than a normal sick day.  It just does.

Ask this guy....

Mr. I'm Losing My Lunch While My Brothers Trick or Treat.....

Pitiful.

If you read yesterday's post, you know that I was going to give him until 1:00 to stop with the upchuck.  Then I was going to let him get duded up and let him stick his bucket out for a couple of Kit Kats then come back home.

1:00 came and went and we were looking like we were going to be suiting up.  Golden.

So I dragged out all the costume pieces and the make-up bag, and we got started.  Everyone was thrilled that Tate was feeling better, and I was the boys were beginning to salivate at the thought of all the candy. 

Tate was totally dressed.  Chaps were in place, boots were on, hat was fixed, holster was adjusted, and handle-bar mustache was drawn on.  He looked adorable.  Until he looked up at me with the biggest most sad eyes and said, "Mama, I just can't do it.  I can't twick or tweat."  And before I could say, "but the Kit Kats...", he was stripping off the cowboy gear and climbing back on the couch.

And I might have cried.  Because I'm pretty sure I've never seen anything so pathetic in all my life.  And I didn't even get one picture first....

I wiped my nose on my sleeve and turned my attention to the other brothers Darrel. 

And I do have to say, they looked GREAT.  I was so bummed that I wasn't going to be hanging with those characters at the festival.... 

Here's Keaton...a.k.a..Albert Einstein.  I think he looks very smarty!

And here's Sawyer....our Redneck that slipped into his character a little too easily.   My fave:  the chest hair.  Crack.Me.Up.

Kirk took the boys to the big festival downtown, and, from what I hear, they were not alone.  I think there was an insane turnout for the event which is great for our smalltown, and the boys were loaded down with candy.   Score.



The boys with a precious member of our K-Group from church.



Sawyer and his BFF Hesley :  Tuh-ruh-ble

I stayed home and snuggled with Tate on the couch...not too shabby of an evening...aside from that whole holding the throw-up bucket thing.

But, probably the best part of the whole night for all of us was when the boys brought home lots and lots of these:

Because when Mama's happy....
Everyone's happy.

Happy Halloween!!

Now....let me at that candy....