Okay, so Halloween was VERY fun. Chicken's coach relented at the last possible moment, and Chicken got to wear her steampunk outfit--self assembled from various Renaissance Faires and anime festivals. Of course because I'm an idiot, I didn't get a picture, which was a real shame, because she was charming.
Her friend came over, and they gave out candy while Mate and I took the short people out on their annual Halloween death march, so called because although our neighborhood isn't very long and we by no means covered all of it, they were, of course, whining us to death by the time we were done canvassing for sweets. It was okay--we had a couple of scary houses (one of which sent Squish squealing down the walk shrieking "Too scary! Too scary! I'm too young! I can't go there!") and some pretty pretty decorations which Squish was very apt to comment on, to the great delight of those being voluntarily mugged for sugar.
Zoomboy was dressed as the Grim Reaper-- he tried to get away with just gesturing with his scythe, but eventually he realized that went against his basic politeness and unbent enough to wish people a happy Halloween, and to thank them. Squish had no such prohibitions built into her costume. None at all.
"Oh my!" exclaimed one nice mugging victim. "You two are so scary!"
"I am not scary," Squish told her reasonably. "I have no scariness in my life. I'm cute!"
"Omigod! You certainly are!"
"Thank you. I AM cute. Have a Happy Halloween!"
And then, as she was marching away with her ill-gotten gains, she ran into another mother who was LOSING IT, laughing on the street as she waited for her own kids to get back.
"I AM cute!" Squish protested, hurt, I guess, by the woman's laughter.
"Oh honey I believe you," the woman cackled, "she sure wasn't talking to ME!"
And thus, Squish.
And in other odd news? We won a random pair of Foo Fighters tickets last night and for those of you who have not heard The Foo Fighters, I give you the following video of you know who, done to one of their biggest songs:
Anyway, I LOVE the Foo Fighters. Adore them. That song I just posted? That's Chase and Tommy's song, from my current WIP that I've been keeping VERY VERY close to my vest, because writing it is like mixing different flavors of pain. So, yeah. Love them. Adore them. And they were playing with Cage The Elephant. Again, let me present you with a sample:
And so what did Mate and I do, in our young and funky middle-aged-ness?
We gave the tickets to Big T and his friend.
We felt so old. We did--but there were a couple of things going on there. The first--and perhaps the most important, is that as much as I ADORE the Foo Fighters, the person who brought their first CD into this house was Big T. Big T loves music like I love music, like it lives in his soul. And it just didn't seem right for us to leave him home. Now Mate would have gone with me, but he didn't want to go with Big T, and I would have gone with Mate, but, seriously-- he's almost nineteen. Doesn't he get to watch his own concerts? We did. Mate and I spent a considerable amount of our disposable income on concerts when we were nineteen. Isn't there some cachet in the concerts you've attended? Don't you get to wax lyrical about music that throbs in your blood?
And I have a deadline, and it's riding my ass. And Mate was really tired. And I've got a business trip this weekend. And Mate was going to join me on Saturday night because it's a night away from the kids. And we would feel guilty leaving everybody on a weeknight. And just this once, we ceded our youth card to our teenaged son.
He came home luminous, and we're proud:-) As my friend told me, it was a very karmically pure thing to do--and don't we need more of those?
*sigh* Yeah--but someday soon, I'd like another kick ass concert to make my old bones dance.