trick or treat.

Last year during Halloween, R and I lived on the second floor of an apartment complex in a college town, so we knew we weren't going to get any trick or treaters. (And let's be honest, we were out on the town, dressed up as a cowgirl and a pilot, drinking the kinds of drinks that cowgirls and pilots drink, so we were in no place to be passing out candy to kids.) But this year, we live in a nice townhouse and we are nice, mature adults, so we thought it would be great to pass out candy to trick or treaters. I bought a bunch of bags of candy that kids (and pilots) love, turned on the porch light, and I was ready to ooh and aah at the Supermen and Princesses that came knocking! But, of course, not one single kid came.

So here we are, two mature adults with too much candy. R is in the other room studying for his first flight tomorrow and I'm sitting here, knee deep in Twix wrappers. So, in the spirit of Halloween, I managed to dig up some old pictures of us in costume. Now, to do our parents justice, I have to say, these costumes are cute, but we both had some way better ones over the years. When I was in kindergarten, my parents put me in a tiny bathrobe, put pink curlers in my hair, and had me trick or treat with a pot and tell people I was a housewife. I didn't really get it at the time, but by the reactions and the amount of candy I took home, it seems all the adults thought it was the greatest. R's mom was equally creative. In all his years, I don't think he had a store bought costume once. She managed to put together a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, Batman, a clown, a firefighter, a pirate, and my personal favorite, a "victim". This last one consists of bloody makeup, a bandaged head, and a cast. Morbid? Maybe. Creative? Absolutely. In his defense, R says this costume stemmed from his fascination with EMT's and paramedics. He cannot, however, seem to specify the nature of his fake injuries. I suppose to a little boy with blood makeup all over, it really doesn't matter.

Here's R as a baseball player for the Brewers. See what I mean? I'm sure his mom told him to put on all the blue clothes he has, pull up his socks, and put on a cap he already owned. Bam, fifteen dollars saved. Still, it's better than my costume below.

Here I am as a clown. It appears my clown suit was made from old bridesmaids dresses and I distinctly remember my mom just putting lipstick on my nose. A lipstick nose and a taffeta suit do not a clown make, Mom. I wonder if my mom and R's mom could have a contest to see who was more thrifty with their Halloween costumes.

And here we are in costumes of our own invention. I was one of three blind mice, complete with a walking stick and R was Grandpa Brett Favre, complete with Wrangler jeans. I admit, we did take a few costume making tips from our thrifty moms. So, we hope wherever you are this year, you had a good Halloween.

As for me, I'm going to go try and forget about that weird clown suit with a few more mini Snickers bars.