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Halloween Fail

It happened again.

Thump thump thump.

This is ridiculous.

First: Halloween, because it was kind of a fail on my end. The day started out great: I took Indy to a Halloween party and we painted pumpkins and ate cupcakes, but then we had to spend the afternoon driving to and from the Yale Health Center for his 2-year well visit (which includes shots and getting blood taken).

And while he sat calmly through the entire blood test, not even making a peep when the nurse put the needle in his arm (!), our departure from the lab required him to unhand the trains that he had been playing with (since they belonged to the doctor’s office), and what followed was the kind of tantrum that you honestly just have to ignore because there is no other solution (which, of course, makes everyone who sees it think you are a terrible parent who doesn’t care when their child is collapsed on the floor in a puddle of misery).

On the way home, I stopped at the drive-thru to treat myself to a nice big Dunkin’ Donuts iced coffee, and what did I do? Poured the entire thing – I mean the entire thing – onto my lap. Which made for a super comfortable two-hour return trip.

I thought I’d try to salvage the evening by taking my son out trick-or-treating for the very first time, but this is how that conversation went:

“Do you want to put on an awesome costume?!”

“DON’T WANT PUT ON COSTUME.”

“Do you want to go trick-or-treating with all the kids?!”

“DON’T WANT TRICK-OR-TREATING KIDS.”

“Do you want candy?!”

“DON’T WANT CANDY.”

…Got it. (We’ll try again next year.)

And then, at 8PM, what appeared to be five hundred pre-teens showed up at my door looking for candy. I hadn’t bought any, assuming that no one would stop by our relatively not Halloween-friendly street, and was so embarrassed that I said something along the lines of “Oh wow, I just got totally cleaned out a few minutes ago!”

I lied to children. About candy.

I rummaged around in the kitchen for a bit, and ended up depositing a few sad Hershey’s kisses and one mandarin orange into their hands, to the chorus of – I swear – “awwwws.”

And then I topped it all off by not sleeping. Which, sure, might be partially the result of the enormous replacement cup of iced coffee the Dunkin’ Donuts lady gave me (I forgot about the whole it’s-a-terrible-idea-to-drink-coffee-after-noon thing), and partially the result of the fact that I watched American Horror Story moments before heading upstairs to bed, but still:

Ridiculous.

I give up: I’m going to do it. Time to try yoga.

Namaste.

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