I found the shirt, belt, fingerless gloves, and leg warmers at the mall; I loathe the mall. I made the skirt, so ignore the hideousness of it. The wig was a "for-no-reason" gift from my stepmom several months ago, on the occasion of Christian spending the night over there and begging a trip to the Wal-Mart(s). Her pink Converse (at the time this photo was taken were muddy in the garage) I bought at Target. The leggings she already had.
We trick-or-treat each year by way of a hay ride, courtesy of our neighbors. It is the way to do trick-or-treating, let me tell you. First, we head to our HOA for free hot dogs, nachos and drinks, a few brave souls go through the haunted house, then we're off for all the candy the kids can get.
Cullen picked up trick-or-treating really fast!
By the end of the night, as the unsuspecting homeowner was dropping candy in his bucket, he was reaching into their candy bowl for more!
We had so much fun. I think everybody did. And we were trend-setters, apparently. Last year we were the only hay ride through the neighborhood, but this year there were quite a few. That's okay, though. We're the OHR*.I love this picture. He looks very Eastwood, eh? Tough little cowboy with a sticky (grass-covered, from his fall off the sidewalk) lollipop.
This house pulled out all the stops. Christian stopped for a picture; my neighbor's daughter, a.k.a. the "Cheerless Cheerleader," is wondering what the heck possessed Christian to slow down in the candy-getting festivities.
And then there was the obligatory Grumpy Old Man. The kids were gathered on the porch, waiting for someone to open the door, when GOM came out of the garage, waving his arms and yelling at the kids:
"Get out of here! Quit ringing my doorbell! We don't have any candy! Don't you see the lights are off??? (The porch light was, but his entire walkway was illuminated with solar lights, and both front windows were illuminated by the lights inside the house. The garage door was open, and the lights were on in there, too. It looked fairly inviting.) Go somewhere else!" he grouched.
Jerk. We should have gone back later with a Halloween gift for him.
Not that I do that sort of thing.
This little lion was about the cutest thing in fur I've seen. He belongs to my neighbors. Actually, he belongs on the Gerber label. My neighbor's nose is also in there. That's the only picture I'm going to post of her, for fear of her Facebook page, and retribution. Yes, I'm a coward. I freely admit it. Get
an awful picture dirt on me, and all your secrets are forever safe.
*Original Hay Ride