Our township holds Trick-or-Treat Night always on a Thursday, no matter on what day Halloween actually falls. Yeah, I don’t understand either.
That night, David took our eldest daughter out into the wind and rain and cold to greet the neighbors while I stayed home with a ladybug with a runny nose. SK was giddy to wear her purple princess dress, complete with random sparkly butterfly wings (I know, I know. David wanted her to be Buzz Lightyear. I was hoping for maybe a cute bumble bee costume, but alas, she asked for a wand. A wand and a crown, to be exact. Damn you, preschool, and your dress-up corner.)
They returned home about an hour and a half later, flushed, excited. SK was anxious to delve into her treats, and I was curious to hear about everything we missed.
Me: “So, Saoirse Kate, did you tell a lot of people what kind of princess you were?”
SK: “No. I just wanted to get to the candy.”
I was getting the girls’ snacks together before school today, and I told each…
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