Until next year...

It was a long weekend at Casa X filled with unseasonably warm weather and Halloween family fun and frivolity. On Saturday, Chris-n-Matt came over and we dressed up Beck and took him to the neighborhood parade which consisted of children walking to the end of the block and running back. We had police officers handing out safety information and a fire truck with the ever so patient firemen. There was bobbing for chewed up apples in spitty water, a cookies and cupcakes table, and of course, "Mike Wazowski!" We even had McGruff the crime fighting dog.

And then there were all the enthusiastic, over supportive parents with cameras in hand. I was one of them. My husband might have had a camera in his hand if he wasn't already holding a bourbon and ginger. (Note time, 1:00 pm. This will be important later.) Now that we have a child, we can put him in embarassing costumes and give the dog a break. I'm telling you, children are the penultimate pets.

After the fun of the parade, we all walked over to Kevin-n-Jack's to visit their new Beagle puppies: Stanley and Livingston.
I think this one is Stanley. Or maybe it's Livingston.

Kevin-n-Jack (though on this afternoon it was just Kevin) are big believers in the afternoon cocktail. The ever gracious host, he offered us refills. He had Makers Mark, how could we say no? After Kevin-n-Jack's, now Kevin-n-Jack-n-Stanley-n-Livingston's, we all went to another friend's party -- an "Oktoberfest" where there were sausages, sauerkraut, and suspiciously dark beer. For the kids there was a moonbounce and for the adults there were drunken political debates. (Time check 5:00) I joined one conversation just in time to hear the husband say, "Kerry? Kerry is a fucking pussy!" to the neighbor who has no less than three Kerry signs in his yard and two bumper stickers on his Jeep. Poor Beck, asleep on my chest in the Baby Bjorn, his head at an alarming angle, woke with a start: "RAA!!" What a wonderful all purpose excuse babies are! I turned to the husband and said, "Beck is hungry. You need to go get the diaper bag." and pushed him inside the house where he sat on the couch and promptly fell over. I didn't even get a chance to yell at him.

I'll wrap the rest of this up and spare you the more graphic details: Kevin drove him home. The friends heckled with little mercy, "Put him to bed Kevin. HIS BED!" "Don't take advantage of him - - too badly." I had the keys, he was locked out. He threw-up in Kevin's backyard and we had to go get him. Kevin was none too pleased: "My puppies have been dining on sausages in a bourbon sauce..."

People told us that our lives would change so much when we had a baby and it's not true. These things happened before Beck, and I'm sure they'll happen after. Ouch.

There was a lot of "laying low" for a good portion of Sunday. We ate the pizza that the husband ordered the night before when he woke up at 9:00, but then changed his mind about once it arrived, and we watched the Packers beat the Redskins, a game we would have been at had it not been for Beck. I'll forgive him when he is in High School. At about 6:00 in came a few of the more troublesome neighbors looking for refills on their roadies and we started all over again.

We had slightly less trick-or-treaters than last year, which is still an awful lot. About 8:00 we got our "Juvenile Delinquents" in the form of six black kids who Im guessing drove over from another neigborhood. Judging from the jerseys we had a Donovan McNabb, two Allen Iversons, and a Ray Lewis. I did what any person would do who wanted to emphasize that Halloween is for kids and that it was time they start acting like grown-ups. I silly stringed them. Then I gave them these. After they left, the husband said, "those were lame costumes." I said "Actually, those were six white kids from Country Club Hills. Those were genius costumes!"

It's Election Day today and the country is choosing a president. Go tell them who you want.

Comments

[J]

As one husband who has done his share of passing out at neighbor's parties (old neighborhood nickname: Husband lite), I object to the picture of our fallen hero on the bed. It was not nice of you to take pictures of the passed-out husband. Someday, he'll return the favor. Just wait!

[AVERAGE JOE]

Sorry, ladies. He's taken. :}