Phoebe talks about "Mingos" (Flamingos) at least twice a day, everyday. We're not sure where or how she got so attached to them, but I'm guessing it has to do with the fact that they're very very pink. I spruced up a store-bought flamingo costume with lots of scalloped fabric and hot glue and we met my sister Amy and nephew Juju for tricks and treats.
Maxy decided he has officially reached spoilsport-age and is too old to dress up. And I'm sorry to say I've been taking the news like a real sad sack! Change is always strange, but especially so when traditions or stuffing your kids into funny costumes is involved.
Nevertheless, it was a hilarious night with these two little ones. It turns out flamingo Phoebe is a candy mooch who, when left to her own devices, refused to leave a porch without a second or third helping...and poor Juju at one point was found banging himself up against a tree in some sort of robot, short-circuited, candy stupor. It was wild and funny and stressful in the kind of endearing way that only 3 year old's can get away with. Just as it should be.
Happy happy Halloween, friends!