I wish there was some way to estimate how many kids would show up for Hallowe'en, and when. Last year we had a gazillion, all between 5 and 9 pm. This year there were very few. They started showing up at 2 (!!!???) and I wasn't at all ready, and it was all over by 7. I don't understand.
I don't like to hand out candy. The past few years I had LED blinking rings and bracelets, and for boys who didn't want "jewelry" I had tiny LED fingertip flashlights. They went over well. This year I had one bowl with 12-count boxes of Crayola sidewalk chalk, and another bowl full of whistles and kazoos, sitting on the porch. Kids could choose one from the bowl of chalk, OR two or three items from the bowl of whistles.
At least half the "kids" were at least 15, many older. Half! Even worse, on three occasions, the MOTHERS came up with a batch of little kids and the MOTHERS ALSO GRABBED STUFF OUT OF THE BOWLS! Handfuls of stuff from BOTH bowls! Carefully not looking at me! That completely blew my mind!
I think next year I might put up a little sign:
I had moved a chair out onto the porch, set up a space heater to blow on me, and settled down with a book. I did get quite a bit of reading done. There was a lot of time that there was no one on the street.
The Nugget came to my house early, grabbed a kazoo, and ran back home, whence she and her mother drove off, not to be seen again for hours. Turns out they'd gone to another neighborhood to make the rounds there with friends.
Rapunzel, at the nursery school costume parade on Friday:
The nursery school kids marched around the parking lot. The day before, Daughter had told me that Nugget didn't want to be in the parade. I asked why, and Daughter said, "She's shy." Duh? I never noticed shyness in her.
Anyway, Daughter was late (she's always late, everywhere, for everything) and didn't arrive until the parade was over and the kids were just lined up for photos, so I'm glad I was there to wave at Rapunzel in the parade. Nugget was amazing. Notice her hands in the second photo above. She was marching like she was a beauty queen perched on the back deck of a white convertible, flashing a genuine smile the whole way, and waving both hands at the adoring crowd. All she was missing was a sheaf of roses.
Shy, my eye.