Our church was having a Halloween party on Halloween evening, and though I wasn’t initially sure if we were going to go or not, Jayce saw the fliers posted around church, and how it was superhero themed, and that was that. We had to go. Also, we’d rolled our clocks back the week before so it was pitch black by 5 pm, and cold, so a few hours of indoor activities was right up our alley.
The main building had been cleared of all chairs and filled with various little game stations, run by super heroes, with sweets for prizes and participation. Jayce was like a kid in a candy store. Or like a kid in a church filled with lots of games and free candy.
Jayce was serious about bobbing for apples, and was eventually rewarded for his persistence, even though it was detrimental for the lower half of his painted face.
Hannah was also successful, and this is how she looked all night. On the run, with an apple.
Her method of bobbing for apples left something to be desired. But they kept letting her play, and win. (I think it was her tiny chef persuasive powers.)
And if Jayce was like a kid in a candy shop, you can imagine what Hannah was like. We’ll just let go of the metaphors here: She was like a baby who was unleashed in a large room, full of friendly people, half of them kids, in fun costumes, standing by brightly colored games, with big tubs of sweets that they let her dip into time and time again. With an apple to bite on.
Trying to get a photo of the kids together and looking in my general direction wasn’t happening, so these had to do.
We left the party and headed home, letting Jayce stop at the houses on our street that we passed along the way. There weren’t many, maybe 5 or 6, but they each gave him a handful of candy. And the next morning he asked me, “Mom, when I’m done with this candy, can I lay down because my belly hurts?”
So apparently he’d received just enough.