So, it’s Halloween today. World’s most divided holiday. (Well, Columbus Day is moving up in the polls on this, so perhaps Halloween will lose its ranking soon).

We celebrate Halloween, yes. Our rules are simple:

1.No creepy.

2. No scary.

3. No plastic knives with fake blood (see #1 and #2)

4. And all Reeses’ are subject to quality control sampling.

Anyhoo – we were all in the works for Halloween. So far this month we have had two birthdays, and something called Hyllingsfest which involves dancing and Swedish meatballs and Lord have mercy there were my boys in tights singing “Children of Our Heavenly Father” in SWEDISH and it was PREASHUSS.

CAN YOU EVEN? I MEAN HOLY SWEDISH POM POMS. Also: note the ears. They hold up the hat. Of course. Such great little preshus earsie wearsies.

Also there’s THIS:

It appears in this picture my cute little kid has had just a bit too much of Swedishness and has had to take so many pictures that he just snarls now. BUT IT’S STILL CUTE. IT IS.

Halloween also has the capacity for preshus. I give you, exhibit A:

And then… Wait for it….

The TAIL. I don’t even know how to use my words here. Which is kinda rare.

This Halloween, both boys wanted to be All Star Wars, All the Time. I was so proud. And then, that’s when I kind of detached myself from my reality, and said these fated words:

“Oh no, Blonde. Let me make you a Kylo Ren costume. I’m SURE IT WILL BE EASY.”

Yep yep yep. I said that. It’s about as scary and stupid as the girl who asks, “Is anybody there?” in the scary Halloween movie, right before she gets the big bloody heave-ho.

Do you know, that making a HOOD is not really all that easy? Like, if you don’t make it RIGHT, your kid starts to look sorta… like he’s part of the clan?

And I don’t mean caveman clans, people. My costume really really was taking a turn to the fascist, and that’s… well.. no. Just, NO.

So… then this happened:

“Mom? My head hurts. And my stomach. Also, my throat. And my arms. My arms are twitchy.”

Yes. Yes, twitchy arms are evidently also a symptom of MY KID HAS THE FLU RIGHT BEFORE HALLOWEEN.

I know. This is so scary. Basically it’s like the girl just asked, “Is anybody there?” And THEN she PROCEEDED TO WALK UP THE CREEPY STAIRS. (Why do we go for heights, people, when we are scared? Why? Has not anyone ever considered just turning your butt around and walking right out the door? Oh no. You have to saunter up the STAIRS because up THERE you will be safe and sound and not end up with body parts all over. Suggestion: There’s a Quick Trip down the street – get out, go get a cherry slushy and survive.)

But, I digress.

The kid was sick. Sickety-sick. This all happened on Friday and, as you know, moms never can live for longer than ten seconds without projecting something and then planning the heck out of the ahead, so I started devising.

And it went like this:

1. My child is sick. And he might still be so on Halloween.
2. Clearly the most logical thing is to convince the neighborhood to just have Halloween on Wednesday.

Totally should work, right?

When I presented my plan to the husband, I was met with a teensy bit of opposition. It went like this:

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

I responded gently, like this: “THIS IS OUR CHILD. THE FRUIT OF OUR LOINS. HAVE YOU NO SOUL.”

Red: “What are Loinds?”

Anyhow, the hubster, who has so very often found himself in this predicament before, JUST KEPT TALKING:

“Why don’t you just dress him up in his Grim Reaper costume and-”

“Excuse me? What? What did you say?”

“Um… just dress him up. He can answer the door?”

“In his WHAT costume?”

“Um… the Grim Reaper? The one who does the Reaping? No? No reaping? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Why in the world would you think I would dress my son up as Death? Have you really REALLY no soul? This post is really writing you in a dark light, dude.”

“Okkkkaaay. He’s not the Grim Reaper. So, he’s Hooded Bathrobe Guy?”

The rest of the conversation is not acceptable for our ears BECAUSE WE HAVE SOULS AND MY HUSBAND DOES NOT.

I would like to add that Blonde is all better. I didn’t have to reconfigure the time-space continuum for my neighborhood, so that’s good. My husband and I have worked through our issues and he has adamantly stated that this is the best Kylo costume in the galaxy. He’s a good man.