The Super Frightful Ever Spooky Pants-Less Dementor

Oliver adores Halloween. He always has.

His favorite show when he was 2 was Scooby Doo – and his very first crush was Daphne. And I let him watch it because he adored it.

Everyone told me that it would cause him to have nightmares, but really, what child doesn’t have some nightmares, and he loved the idea of the boogey man.

Granted, I did have to sweep the room before bed to check and make sure the boogey man had gone home for the night, but really, nothing unmanageable.

Anyway, not the point (which I am getting to, I promise..

Because Oliver loves Halloween so much, he’s convinced his sister that it is the best holiday ever, and since she would really like to be able to follow him around like a puppy dog (and occasionally does, literally), it wasn’t very hard.

So every year we’ve built upon our Halloween decorations.

3 years ago we got this frightful tree thing. I’m not really sure if it’s supposed to be a wicked witch or a tree monster, but I like it. And it cackles whenever someone walks by (or when the sun sets, or the wind blows, or all the time really.. and it took Bean almost 2 weeks to find the source of the cackling after I put it up..).

2 years ago we started the graveyard in the front. Now we have about 12 tombstones, and yes, they fall down all the time, but I love the fact that they look better when my grass isn’t mowed, so I get to be lazy creative.

Last year we got these bone wind chimes that shake whenever they hear a sound - or at least they do when the batteries are good.

And inside we have spider web curtains and table cloths, and pumpkin candle holders and a spooky candle tree for the mantle.

I love it.

Our new additions this year were some cauldrons (hanging from chains above my bar so that Bean can hit his head on them every morning while making me coffee) and Oliver’s favorite:

I’m really not sure what it is. Maybe the Grim Reaper?? Maybe a Zombie. Maybe just a spooky skull guy in a black cloak..

No idea.

But he’s hovering in our front window ready to scare the shit out of you whenever you walk up and belatedly notice him. (or when you get up in the middle of the night for a glass of water and see him out of the corner of your eye when your husband is working and you’re home alone with the children..)

Anyway.

We have fun at Halloween.

This year there’s a Harry Potter theme (which we've done before, only Oliver was a super cute Harry Potter and Tallulah was Hedwig - seriously, it was the cutest thing ever!!).

Tallulah is going as Hermione.
Oliver is going as a dementor.
I am going as Professor McGonagall.
Bean has to work.

Last weekend the kids tried on their costumes.

Tallulah looked very sweet in her get up.

Oliver looked hilarious.

For starters, the mask is too big.

Second, the cloak is too short.

And third, the ghoulish dementor hands that he had to have?? Those he can’t get on without an assload of pulling and straining on my part.

So I told him he’d have to wear black pants with it.

His response??

Or no pants.

I was howling.

I don’t know if you guys have read Harry Potter, but a dementor does not have pasty pale, scrawny little legs.
And that’s not even mentioning that parts of the cloak come up to his crotch.

Perry has them on Halloween. Since he refused to trade with me.

So he can have fun taking Hermione and the Pants-less Dementor out Trick-or-Treating.

Do You Have To Be So Blunt??

Perry was over on Wednesday for his visitation with the kids and Bean was working, so I was helping Perry make dinner for the kids and trying to be sociable, because that's what grown-up, mature divorced parents do - or so I'm told.

And whenever I do something like that I try to make conversation about something completely innocuous that could never in any way be construed as being related to:

1. An attack on his parenting.

2. An attack on his manliness.

3. A comment on our crappy marriage.

4. A comment on my new wonderful marriage.

5. A comparison between my new wonderful marriage and our old crappy marriage.

6. His crazy family.

This week I chose Rowlf. He's losing his nuts next week.

And of course anytime two grown-ups (or two people in general) are having a conversation Oliver feels the need to eavesdrop.

Me: Rowlf is getting his nuts chopped off next Wednesday.

Perry:??

Oliver:WHAT??

Me: Bean's taking Rowlf to get his nuts chopped off next Wednesday. Do you want him to take you next Thurday now that we know where to go?

Oliver: NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Perry: Jenn, do you have to be so blunt? The word is neutered.

Me: So, Oliver, was that no for Rowlf's nuts or for yours??

I didn't answer Perry, because really it wasn't worth it, but I'd like to take this opportunity to answer him.

Yes, Perry, in MY kitchen while eating MY food and talking to MY children, I do have to be that blunt. And really is "neutered" so much of a better word?? At least my choice of words completely describes exactly what the procedure is going to be instead of using euphemisms and other malarkey to make someone feel better about what they're doing to their animal.

I am chopping the nuts off of my beloved dog. I signed a fucking contract saying that I would chop the nuts off of said dog before I could buy him for a third of what he was worth, and people are paying ridiculous amounts of money for what are essentially mutts - but I really wanted one. So those bad boys are coming off. But you know what?? I'd chop them off even if I didn't have a contract, because my boy still squats to pee, and he doesn't mark any territory and I like it that way.


How's that for blunt, Perry?? And you know what?? You can take your comments, your euphemisms, and your malarkey right on over to Fawk You Friday.

I'm Too Random for My Blog

I know Wednesday is random day, and I've already posted twice today, but I have some requests to fill.

First, Bean requested that I post this:

I am the Queen of Romance.

I randomly asked him if he would ever get a chin implant, because seriously, he has NO chin, and I don't really care, but I think about plastic surgery all the time for my no boobs, so I was wondering.*

And then I was picking a piece of something off his forehead and he said something about his uni-brow, so I I asked him if I could pluck it. And he said no, because he's going to the store to buy beer, and I said I could pluck it tonight when he went to bed.

So he said, Oh baby!! That would be HOTT!!

And then he said I must go blog about this right now

So look at me all being the good wife and stuff.

*He said no, just in case you were wondering.

And then, a couple of people have asked about "Word Up Yo!" and "Fawk You Friday", so here's the links for those.




Though here's the actual post from last Friday.



And here's the actual post for this week's Word Up Yo!