Stay OUT Of My Way!

Everyone has pet peeves, things that people do or say that just grrrrrrrrrrrrATE on their nerves. Everyone's pet peeves are different, which makes it easier for all of us to annoy each other, of course, but I'm realizing that I have some doozies.

Top Ten Pet Peeves:

#10 I hate it when people park in a handicapped spot when they shouldn't.
This was a major irritation to me last year when the moms at Little Miss's preschool would park in the handicapped spots -- including the ones that weren't spots because they were all whited out to give the handicapped people enough room to get in and out -- because they were closer to the sidewalk. And they'd do this even before other spots were filled. And they'd do this even though parking on the street would actually have them closer to the door. Fortunately, we're at a different preschool this year, and my blood pressure thanks me for it. But I still see it periodically elsewhere.

#9 Today's version of screwball comedies.
Did we have stupid movies when I was growing up? Sure, Spaceballs made no sense. Dirty Rotten Scoundrels was stupid. The Vacation movies were totally campy. Caddyshack was a bit over the top. But they were good clean fun.

Now? Honestly, I can't even bring myself to go watch the comedies today. They're vulgar and potty humor. And those are the good points. Really, can't we be clever without resorting to this? Have we sunk so low?

#8 Hotels that don't have sleep timers on their flippers.
I know you aren't supposed to read in bed, and I know you aren't supposed to watch tv in bed -- something about it making it hard to fall asleep or something. But I do this every night. It's my way of unwinding. I read a newspaper or magazine or -- if I'm really lucky -- a book while having the Food Network on in the background. When I'm relaxed enough for sleep, I turn off the light and set down the magazine. The tv goes off on its own, and I listen to it somewhat as I fall asleep.

Except if I'm in a hotel that doesn't have a sleep timer on the flipper. Or worse yet, it has a button for the sleep timer but the button doesn't function. Then I'm stuck with the tv on. Sometime in the middle of the night, I have to wake up enough to turn it off and then manage to fall back asleep. Really, this has been a standard function on tvs for decades. Why can't hotels all have it, too?

#7 Tin foil and plastic wrap.
I'm left-handed, and did you know that both of those items are made for right-handed people? Seriously, go try to rip off a sheet of either using your left hand to rip and right hand to hold the box. Go ahead, I'll wait.

See, it just ripped into an ugly crumpled up mess, didn't it? I finally learned how to do it right-handed, but it feels so wrong! Would it really be that hard to make it work both-handed?

#6 Grammatical errors, especially the simple ones.
I know it's been a long time since fifth grade English, but certain things drive me batty.

Its is a possessive pronoun. It's is a contraction of the words it is. They are not interchangeable.

Compliment is when you say something nice to a person. Complement is when something goes well with or improves upon something else. Totally different. Ketchup cannot compliment a hot dog (and not only because ketchup and hot dogs should never meet) because it can't talk.

Incentivize is not a word. Incentification is not a word. Incentivize is not a word.

And I'll spare you the lecture. Most of you don't write for the paper I read that has grammatical errors strewn about it.

#5 People who gloat when they win.
I remember learning about playing games fairly when I was just a small child. Do I like winning? Heck yeah. I also like playing the game again, which means that I don't rub it in people's faces when I win. Or take it too seriously when I lose, for that matter.

The people who play in my husband's baseball league have forgotten that rule. There is a guy who was tossed from the league last year from threatening bodily harm to an ump one too many times. And the cursing and helmet tossing that goes on? You'd think it was life or death. I see examples of this all the time, and it really saddens me.

Read between the lines if you will, but if you can't win nicely no one wants to play with you, and that's a really lonely life. And not healthy for the greater community.

#4 My husband's driving.
Ok, so this may be a common one, I'll admit.

When he sees a red light ahead, does he slow down? Nooooo, he keeps going at the same rate of speed and then has to jerk to a stop. Guess how he starts up from a stop!

The left lane is his home, regardless of how quickly he is going in relation to others or how few people are on the road. It's illegal (see pet peeve #10) and it's just not a good idea in general. And he refuses to admit that it's illegal to drive in the left lane when not passing. It is. I looked it up.

Oh, and he doesn't use a turn signal when "there aren't others who need to know" in his mind or come to a full stop if there aren't other cars around. When the wee ones are in the car, I feel it's important to follow the letter of the law so that they pick up on good driving habits and are safer drivers as they get older. *sigh*

#3 What happened to a good, old-fashioned turn signal?
There's a light near my house where the smaller road turns onto the municpal highway. The sounthbound part of the road mostly has people turning left but some who go straight. They get a left arrow to start the signal. The northbound people tend to go both left, right and straight. And when I come northbound wanting to turn left to get to my house, I have people approaching the intersection who appear to be going straight, and so I wait since I don't want to crash into someone else. Suddenly the car veers to its left and *gasp* turns. Silly me for waiting. Why would I expect notification that it would be safe for me to turn.

#2 Finger and toe nail clipping freak me out.
Seriously, it's like nails on a chalkboard. It actually hurts me to hear that noise. And do you want to know how often I go to work and hear people sitting in their little areas clip clip clipping away? First, it's completely inappropriate and just plain gross to do personal grooming while sitting at your desk working, but second dude, everyone can hear you. ICK!

And you wonder why my husband has the sole finger and toenail clipping responsibilities for the wee ones. And he has to do it upstairs in the bathroom. With the door closed. And the fan on. And I need to be in the basement.

#1 Why does Little Miss feel the need to poop in her pants?
She's potty trained. She's totally potty trained and has been for months. Back in August or so, we were having a little issue with it where she'd leave streaks in her underwear. We resolved it. My husband of course tried bribing her with candy which meant she asked for candy morning noon and night -- not that I predicted this or anything, so I nipped that in the bud -- and came down on the mean mommy strategy of Little Miss who KNOWS to ask and is totally potty trained loses two favorite toys when she poops in her underwear. If she finishes in the potty, she earns one back. It worked beautifully, and she's been totally fine since.

Ok, until Tuesday morning when there was not just a streak in her night time Pull-Up but a full on poop. She was ver sad and told me that she'd called for me in the night but that I hadn't come. I felt sorry for her and said it was ok. Tuesday after nap? Another full poop in the Pull-Up. Tuesday night after dinner? ANOTHER one. Today when my mom got her home from daycare? Yep. And then forty-five minutes later playing in the basement? Uh-huh. Needless to say, my dresser is a little full right now, and her bedroom is looking more empty.

Why, oh WHY, has she decided that it's ok to poop in her pants? She knows what she's doing, and she knows to ask. Here's hoping my little chat with her tonight helps the issue -- and the chat was a positive one about how she knows how to do this and can just ask for help.

So how about you? What are your biggest pet peeves?

Whew, I'm Tired!

Mister Man and I were driving to the gym when we saw a police car ahead of us, lights flashing. I explained that the police car had probably pulled someone over because they were driving too fast and that they were now going to get a ticket.

Mister Man: Mommy, when I'm older, I'm not going to speed.
Me: That's good. Speeding isn't safe, is it?
Mister Man: Nope. My car isn't going to speed.
Me: Really. What kind of a car will you have?
Mister Man: Not a Speed Racer kind of car. It will be a regular car, not like yours. (And no, I don't speed ... trust me, my husband gets on my case for following the speed limit, especially on country roads near us. I think he meant that he won't have a Pilot)
Me: Really. What kind of a car is a regular car?
Mister Man: Well, it will be a car that I'll drive at night. And I'll stop at everyone's house to leave them an ice cream treat.
Me: An ice cream treat. Really?
Mister Man: Yes! And when they wake up in the morning, they'll open their doors, and they'll find the ice cream treat, and they'll be so happy!
Me: I'm sure they will. Don't you worry about it melting?
Mister Man: No, it won't melt. I'll put it in a cooler to keep it cold. And I'll only give it to the good guys.
Me: Oh? How do you know who the good guys are?
Mister Man: Because I'll only stop at the good guys' houses.
Me: Well, of course. How will you know how many ice cream treats to leave at each house?
Mister Man: Well, if there's a Grandma and a Grandpa and an Auntie Megan and a Milo, then I'd leave four ice cream treats. That's how I'd know.
Me: Interesting.
Mister Man: And if the parents are still awake, then they'd open the door when I came and they'd get to choose what flavors they want to eat. And then they could wake up their kids, and the kids could have their ice cream treats right away!
Me: I'm sure they'd like that.
Mister Man: And then, during the day I'd deliver all the mail and the packages in my truck.
Me: Oh, so your regular car is a truck.
Mister Man: Yep. And when it's lunchtime, I'll take a break and eat lunch in my car because I'm busy.
Me: It sounds like you're busy with your two jobs there.
Mister Man: Oh, Mommy! I'm not going to have two jobs. I'm going to have every job!
Me: Wow. That will take a lot of schooling, won't it? How will you learn how to do everything?
Mister Man: Well, that will be my job. I'll have to know everything to do my jobs.
Me: I see. And where will you be living? You're working at night and during the day in your car. Are you going to live in your car?
Mister Man: No, of course not! I'm going to live in our house!

Oh. Great. Although I suppose if he's working as a mailman and ice cream man, it's probably likely that he isn't moving out of our house right after he graduates, is it? He did also inform me that he doesn't want to be a garbageman or a bus driver, so I guess he won't really have every job. I love how the mind of a five year old works!

How Does This Thing Work Again?

When Daylight Savings time comes and goes, my husband is always the one in charge of resetting the clocks. Partly it's because he's up earlier than I am on Sundays -- it's my one day where I am allowed to sleep in peace until 7:45 -- and partly it's that I'd be fine for days looking at wrong clocks and calculating the correct time.

I'm not quite sure what that says about me, but hey it works for us. But better yet, we don't accidentally have two people change the time and really mess us up. Can you imagine the issues that would cause?

So Monday mornings are my day in the office. That means that I need to get up at 5:40am so I can be out the door by 6:15 or so. Since the alarm clock is on my husband's side of the bed (long story behind that one, but suffice it to say that it involved a time in our lives when he woke up earlier than I did and the dual alarm clock was a sorry present from me to him), I just have to crawl into bed each night and magically the alarm is set for the right time.

I also have a clock on my side of the bed so that I can see what time it is when a wee one has a nightmare at 3am. That way I can feel truly sorry for myself. And know exactly how many minutes I've been awake staring at the ceiling trying to fall back to sleep.

Back to yesterday.

I vaguely heard my husband stirring and rolled over to look at my clock. 5:58am. AHHH! I demanded of my husband why he hadn't set my alarm and did he understand that I was going to be late for work (ok by my definition since at 7am I'm usually the only one there) on my first day back to work after a two week vacation and what's wrong with him?

He calmly explained that it was 4:58. Oh.

I grumbled about my clock being the only one in the whole house that he hadn't reset and laid back down, trying to calm my racing heart and move some of that adrenaline out of my veins. I closed my eyes and tried really hard to go back to sleep.

It seemed as though only a few moment had passed when the alarm blared. I groaned and looked at the clock again. 5:14. I poked my husband and asked what this was. He said that he'd set my alarm for me.

FIVE. FOR. TY. I repeated slowly. The same time I get up every single Monday.

Oh, he responded and reset the alarm to the proper time. When questioned later, he explained that he'd reset it from 7:15 -- my usual time -- to 5:14. He couldn't give me a good reason as to why he didn't change the minutes part to the correct time though.

Shockingly, I didn't manage to fall back asleep for the last twenty minutes and then walked around in a daze the rest of the day. And when I went to bed last night? I was shocked to see that it was almost midnight. Oh. Yeah. Really just 11pm.

My husband swore that he was going to change my clock to the correct time today. I haven't checked yet, and I'm not saying anything to him until I go to bed tonight. Is that mean of me? No, mean of me would be if I were to reset his clock to the wrong time. Fortunately, my husband is a lucky man, and I wouldn't do that to him.

Oh, What Games They Play

The wee one are getting to the age where I sometimes allow them to play by themselves for a few minutes at a time while I get things done -- make dinner, clean, do laundry, grab the mail, and so forth. When I go in search of them at the completion of my tasks, I sometimes happen upon interesting sights.

Unfortunately, I've only captured a few on film but, I still want to know where this creativity comes from.

It's a car. No, a space ship. No, an elevator. Oh, I know! It's a race car. Hmmm. I give up!



If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands! Wait, clap your feet? Why are you wearing socks on your hands? OHHHHHH we're cheering for the Vikes! Ok, go for it!

Say chese! Err, ahhh?

It's pictures like this that remind me that I need to carry my camera more often. Oh, and keep it charged. Like my iPod, it does me no good when the batteries are out!

Welcome To Illinois!

Ok everyone, I did the best I could to clean up, and tidy things. Please don't put your coats in any closets or look under the rugs or beds. And help yourself to the goodies. I made some lovely snacks for everyone.

Why?

Oh, because Debbie invited the Blog Around the World crew to come take a tour of Illinois today. Be nice to the visitors.

Really, Illinois to me means Chicago. It's kind of like when I lived in Minnesota (Wayzata in case anyone really wants to know). There was the Cities and there was outstate. And yes, we actually called it outstate, as in not really a part of Minnesota. It's kind of like that with Chicago, too. I can name some suburbs, but even where they are is sort of hazy to me unless I've been there.

I'll toss in a tiny bit about the only other part of Illinois I know a little about. And I know this only because of my husband, who is from St Louis. Which of course means that he lived on the Illinois side of the river near St Louis. See, even people who live in parts of Illinois that aren't Chicago don't call themselves Illinois -- these guys identify themselves with a completely different state! (And for those who don't know me, this is completely tongue in cheek.)

So here's what I know about southern Illinois: They have the Cahokia Mounds. The mounds are big. They're in Cahokia, which means goose in an Indian language. There are several of them. Many schools take field trips there. They have a lot of steps and some ruins on the top.

And now I'm shamed into actually looking up and providing more accurate info on the Cahokia Mounds:

Ok. There are at least 109 mounds (although I recall climbing only two), which are the remains of one of the most advanced ancient societies in North America pre-European invasion. Monk's Mound is the main mound and has four terraces, making it the largest man-made earthen mound in North America. The mounds were abandoned more than 100 years before Europeans arrived, however, with no real knowledge about why they dispersed. It is now a protected national heritage site, and there's a pretty cool website with more info on it here.

Now back to Chicago. Where it's impossible to get lost so long as you know what number you're looking for because the city is laid out in a numerical east/west, north/south grid. Go ahead, quiz me on what hundred a street is! (Granted, Minneapolis with its going through the alphabet twice order for street names is pretty ingenious, too.)

One of my favorite things about Chicago is the food.

We do food right around here, as you can see from our typical girth.


The good news is that if I were a size two or four or six, I could find tons of really cute clothes on sale because so few people are small sizes like that. You don't have that luxury in places like oh say New York. Unfortunately, I'm not a size 2.

What do we like to eat here?

Some of my favorite is the pizza we do. The pizza we have is (duh) Chicago-style. Nothing against New York-style, which I am also a fan of, but this pizza rocks. It's deep dish, but not like what you'd get at Pizza Hut. This typically has the filling inside it instead of on top, with the filling and cheese mixed together and the sauce on top. It's definitely knife and fork type food. Spinach is a tradition -- and trust me, this is the only way you're going to get me to eat spinach on pizza.* And yes, there is also the meat gorging version that a lot of people eat (me, I can't mix cheese and meat -- I think I was Jewish in a former life).


* Unless it's Neopolitan pizza with fresh spinach wilted atop a white pizza from Spaca Napoli.

If you come to Chicago, don't go to Uno's or Due's or Gino's East. Those are not for the connoisseurs. If you want the good stuff, I prefer my Giordano's and Suparossa (which used to be sold in the freezer case when I was growing up in MN but I haven't seen it since high school) and sometimes Lou Malnati's (otherwise known as Lou's). When you're on a first name basis with your pizza, you know it's good.

The other stereotype is the Chicago dog, also known as a red hot. Do not, I repeat do NOT put ketchup on your dog. Eww. Mustard, relish (which must be a florescent green not known in nature), dill pickle spear, celery salt, sport peppers, onion, and tomatoes are de rigeur. Oh, and it's ok to add cucumber but not necessary. It's ok to leave some of those off, but do you really want to mess with tradition? And it must be served on a poppyseed bun.

Real hot dogs are Vienna Beef hot dogs. Any decent hot dog place in Chicago serves them. Especially good ones. Fluky's (the original). Mustards (a tradition before or after Northwestern games) -- officially called Mustard's Last Stand. I love the pun, don't you? Demon Dogs, Superdawg, Weiner's Circle (yep, we're all about our puns), Portillo's, and more.

Oh, a bit of a warning. You definitely need two hands to eat a Chicago dog. And I'd recommend a few napkins. They look good though, don't they?

Illinois is also where the first Mai Tai was invented. That's a bit of a surprise, isn't it? You thought they were invented somewhere tropical. Nope, Bob Chinn's is the home of the original mai tai. And they do great food outside the mai tai, but if you order one you get to keep the plastic cup it comes in. They have the most delicious rolls they serve before your food comes out. They're piping hot, and you can get them with or without garlic but really, who wants it without the garlic? Mmm, mai tai, a couple rolls and some fantastic shrimp, and I'm one happy camper!

Actually, you could eat anything you want in Chicago. Chinatown is one of the better ones I've seen (Royal Dragon has great dim sum), and up on Broadway on the north side there are a ton of great Viet and Pho restaurants. Or you can go upscale in the Loop with Tru or Alinea or any one of a number of others.

Even better, you can learn to cook all these kinds of things right here in Chicago. The Chopping Block is a cooking school for amateurs that offers classes on everything from knife skills to making pasta to basic meals and more. They're done in small classes either in a demonstration or hands on mode, depending on your preference. Either way, food is made over a couple hour period before you eat it and then take home recipes so you can recreate it. This is one of the places that nutured my interest in cooking and definitely honed my skills.

It's a real shame that Debbie wasn't featuring Illinois during early July. That's when we have the Taste of Chicago. I can't even compare it to other tastes that have popped up elsewhere around the country. I've been to a couple of them and been sorely disappointed after being spoiled by the original. Granted, it's crowded -- the secret is to go midweek during the first week during the day -- but all the heat and people and noise is well worth it to get little snitches of everything you could ever ask for. It takes all the flavors of Chicago described above and puts it into one place. Of course, that means for those of you who haven't been there before, only order the taste portions. You want to sample everything you can, and it isn't worth it to fill up on full size portions.

Now I'm hungry, and I hope some of you are, too! There's far more to Illinois than this (and to my blog, so feel free to explore), but I'm still working on getting back in synch after my lovely vacation to Orlando. Thanks for stopping by -- and thank you, Debbie!

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

Ok, so it's really October. And this isn't all I did. BUT I made the mistake of building a little sand sculpture while a bit ummm bored watching the wee ones play on the "beach" at our hotel yesterday. Mister Man saw it and thought it was the coolest thing ever. Obviously, I've never taken him to any museums outside the Kohl's Children's Museum.


He immediately begged me to make more. In fact, he requested specific sea creatures -- since we're in Florida and all. I now know why I never went into professional sand molding. I've heard they have contests. We do snow ones up by us, and I'd probably be pretty bad at those, too.


Regardless, I'll let you admire my works. Knowing that they're all sea creatures of some sort, let's see who can figure out what they all are. I do have pictures of them with identifying "real" creatures, but I think I'll hold off sharing that for just a bit.






















Looking at these again, I realize how bad an artist I really am. Squint hard. See the animals moving below the surface of the sand. Hey, we had fun!

Halloween Recap

Boy, did we have fun last night! The whole evening was full of moments of note. But first, some pictures!

Spider Man flings his webs!

And he's doing something her, too, but I'm not sure what!

Yes, it's actually warm enough on October 31 to eat a picnic outside for lunch! Note: Little Miss is a witch here.

Our annual annual Halloween picture on the steps. Yes, Little Miss is now a princess. But not just any princess. She's the golden flying princess. With the tiara that I ended up wearing halfway through the night. I'm now officially a tiara wearing blogger!

Ahhh, you've noticed that it's now warm enough that we're not wearing jackets and short sleeves are fine. So weird. Oh, and masks are allowed for trick or treating but not at school, so Mister Man now has his mask on.

Sad Moment:
The families that were supposed to join us for trick or treating and dinner after both had to cancel. One had to fly to Cincinnati because her grandmother is dying and she needed to get there to say goodbye before it was too late. The other wasn't as dire, but both children have nasty colds, so she was out, too. This is the first year that another friend of mine that we have trick or treated with every year since we moved here has been in Kansas City. I really missed having her with me. Very weird walking the neighborhood by myself.

Surprising Moments:
Little Miss, the girl who last year cried her head off when I told her only four more houses and refused to stop trick or treating, decided about a third of the way through our neighborhood that she was done trick or treating. Fortunately since my neighborhood makes lots of circles, we were within sight of my house and I sent her home and watched until my husband took her inside (it was still daylight then).

Mister Man chose the option of going through the haunted house that one of our neighbors set up. He doesn't like being scared. And he did ok.

Neat Moment:

I went running yesterday (yeah... I brought all my stuff to Florida and went exactly zero times), so Mister Man was in the Kids Area while I was running. When I picked him up, one of the women who works there had painted his face. This isn't your usual thick blob where you squint and are told it's a sun and then figure out that yeah, I guess it's a sun. She's good. And apparently she did this out of the goodness of her heart, which was pretty neat. He ended up with a great spider on one cheek and a spiderweb on the other. He was so proud!


Unusual Moment:
Neither wee one wore a coat the whole time we were out. Little Miss had a short sleeved dress on. And I didn't need a jacket. It was warm out. It was 73 degrees when we started out. It was only 62 and 65 for a high in Orlando the last two days we were there. Those poor kids in the comfy Elmo costumes. They must have been roasting!

Phew Moments:
Little Miss decided that she'd be the golden princess for trick or treating. While the witch was fine for school, it required a turtleneck underneath it, and it was too warm for a turtleneck. Oh, and it was sort of too short for her this year. Oh, and then she decided that she was a flying princess. Who flies using pixie dust. And shoots webs from her hands. Yep, the golden flying princess slash spider. Creative little cuss, isn't she?

As of this morning, we have both our pumpkins. Nothing was smashed this year, and no shennanigans, even with a Friday night Halloween and tons of parties and bands of kids wandering around until after I'd gone to bed.

High Point:
The wee ones had no meltdowns the whole time we trick or treated. In fact, we covered the entire neighborhood. All 120 houses. And they held hands and crossed streets together and were overall very sweet. In fact, they even handed each other candy rather than just shoving their shares into their buckets and running along. Oh, and neither of them asked to eat any candy the whole time we were out.

Low Point:
Mister Man decided he had to go potty when we were very far from our house. I told him that we could either ask a neighbor (we don't know anyone on the part of the neighborhood, of course) to use their potty or find a dark house and head behind. He chose to ask a neighbor.

Creepy Moment:
The neighbor he asked gladly let him use the potty. And that neighbor appears to be a divorced dad who doesn't know how to keep house. I was embarrassed to be in the house. Especially when Mister Man didn't lift the seat and instead sat down. I didn't know he had to go that kind of potty. Whoops!

Entertaining Moments:
At one neighbor's house, the dad answering the door told Little Miss that she was really pretty. She didn't respond. Mister Man chirped in happily Thanks! Needless to say, we all cracked up. Mister Man totally didn't get it.

Whenever someone would tell Mister Man that he looked strong or asked him if he was Spiderman, he was very honest. Inside my costume, I'm just a regular boy or Those aren't my muscles; it's just part of the costume.

Little Miss eventually grew tired of her costume. Somewhere along the way, she took off her earrings and put them in her pumpkin bucket. She eventually explained that her tiara hurt, so off her head it went and onto mine. Then I noticed she was carrying her necklace in her hands, so I put it around my neck. What next? Why her dress of course! She complained near the end that her dress was hurting her. Since it was still over 60 degrees at 7:45, I had nothing on her under the dress save her Elmo underwear. I refused to let her take that off. Besides, it was way too small for me.

Oh, and one of our neighbors was having a party for her daughter and her daughter's friends. They're in the round part of the cul de sac, and we have an island in the middle of the cul de sac. Navigating this with cars parked along the edge of the street by teen drivers is probably not the easiest. I heard a giant crunch as we were walking back to our house at the end of trick or treating. One of the party guests had backed his dad's car into the brick mailbox. Whoops!

Record Breaking Moment:
The 342nd person who trick or treated at our house. And the 343rd. And the 344th. All the way up to the 372nd. Seriously. We had 372 trick or treaters tonight. And yes, the streets were packed with cars from people who drove in from other neighborhoods. I tried to take some pictures, but my camera didn't like taking pictures of the cars in the dark.

Aha Moment:
As we went on from house to house, some of the families offered the wee ones a choice of candy versus handing them a piece. Inevitably, they chose a Baby Ruth or Almond Joy or Peanut M&Ms or Mike & Ike or some other candy that wasn't a Twix or Snickers or Kit Kat. Next year, I'm teaching them how to choose candy!

Disappointing Moments:
I kept having to remind them to say thank you. They got the trick or treat pretty well, and they'd say it when I reminded them, but I had to remind them about 98% of the time. I was hoping that they'd be able to eventually remember on their own. Even more disappointing, I got many, many comments about how polite and well-mannered they were. If that was well-mannered, what were the rest of the kids doing?

I also was wearing Little Miss's ring. It was way too big for her, but she wanted to wear it when we first left the house. After she dropped it the nineteenth time, I put it on my finger. Not surprisingly, it was a bit small. And it fell off when I was transferring candy from their small buckets into my backpack. I heard a clank but didn't realize what it was until about twenty feet later when I realized it wasn't on my finger anymore. We went back, but I couldn't find it.

Yay Moment:
After we got back from trick or treating, I took a flashlight and went back to look for the ring. Unlike the (pretend) walkie-talkie we lost last year, I found the ring!