And another Halloween over. Mostly.

We've personally given out over 400 pieces of candy. We turned off the light at 8:00 PM and left our "extra" candy outside. The door bell didn't stop ringing for a solid hour. Kids come in groups; just a few came in ones and twos. We generally have large groups at the door. We have a moving, lit-up cat on the porch. About half the girls knelt down to pet it. We have a scary skill that has eyes that light up when you push a button. It also gives off a scary screaming laugh. Everyone pressed that button and just stopped and stared at the laughing skull before they rang the bell.

 

Oh, but you want to hear about Ben don't you?

 

OK. First: the costume. Ben wanted to be Luke Skywalker, Jedi from the sixth and last (er, third?) movie. (Return of the Jedi. Sixth in chronoligical order; third in published order.) We thought about buying one but then I decided to make one. I figured Ben would want to wear it over and over and over again. I started with the black hooded cloak. As soon as I finished it, Ben started wearing it. Next, I made the black tunic and followed up with the black belt complete with light saber holder. Ben looked totally awesome.

 

Second: the trick-or-treating. We started at Steve's office. In the space of a half-hour, we collected all the candy available from the third floor. Filled Ben's Halloween bag. We didn't bother with floors two and one. Next, we came home. Ben got an invitation to go to a friend's house for pizza before the neighborhood trick-or-treating. I stayed home while Steve went out with Ben. Ben went out with Max and Tad, Mason and Hudson, and Elena and Mick. Also, the babies Tessa, Riley and Hunter. Steve followed along with dads Stuart, Andrew, Mark, and Tim. Apparently, Ben took off and ran from house to house. Max kept up, Mason fell behind. The babies really fell behind and ended up going to every other house. Eventually they got Ben to, uh, slow the F down (direct quote from Steve), the kids all got more or less together. At some point during the evening, Andrew disappeared to get more beer (when I sorted Ben's candy, I had to first remove Steve's empty). At another point, several of the kids were dropped off while Ben kept going to more houses.

 

Apparently, everyone was having too much fun to check a watch. The boys didn't come home till just before 8:00. Ben's usually in bed by 7:30 and if you don't think that half hour makes a difference, I invite you to care for the cranky wretch I'll have on my hands tomorrow.

 

Ben claims he'll sleep in. We'll see what that actually means!

Wednesday, Lexie made her fingers into madibles and chased the other kids around, calling herself a tarantual.

Sunday, Ben walks outside (in the rain. While he's coughing up a lung) to show me the "world's biggest spiderweb" with a "tarantula in it!" OK, so it wasn't a tarantula, but it was quite large. I explained to Ben tarantula's grow in the desert and are as big as your hand so the spider he found, while big, couldn't be a tarantula. He wasn't impressed, so we googled "tarantulas". (To be fair, I used Live Search first, but they won't let you sort all the images you find by size and Ben wanted BIG pictures of these BIG spiders.)

 

We found several interesting pictures, including one of a tarantula on a man's boot; a tarantula on a man's hand; a tarantula on crawling on a man's shoulder; and a tarantula inside a tank. I made the mistake of pointing this out to Ben. Now he wants a tarantula for a pet.

 

Ever since Lucas the Fish died (which was the fish who replaced Benjamin the Fish II, which was the fish that replaced Benjamin the Fish I, and was in face a replacement Ben never knew about...), Ben has wanted his "own" pet. I am refusing to get another fish because I hate cleaning the fish tank and quite frankly I'm only barely keeping up with the care requirements for one son, one husband, two cats, and one me. I said "No, way! I am so not having a tarantula in my house."

 

Ben: But I want a pet!

Mama: Well, we can't get you a pet today. First we have to decide what kind of pet you want. You can get fish, or mice, or lizards, or hermit crabs, or a hamster...

Ben: Yeah! I want a hamster! Can we go get one?

Mama: We aren't getting a hamster today. We don't know if you like them. We don't know how to take care of them. We have to learn about hamsters before we get one. You know, your dad had a hamster when he was little...

 

That's all it took before Ben rocketed off my lap (a boy who could barely lift his head moments before) and raced downstairs. He's so tired from this cold that as soon as he saw Steve playing Halo he lost all train of thought about getting a hamster. But then I got downstairs and opened my big mouth.

 

Next thing found us all piled into the car and driving off to the closest pet store. Not so we could buy a hamster (as I repeated to Ben many times over) but to see if Ben even liked hamsters. They have funky little toes that I thought might freak him out. No such luck. He was more ready to grab the hamster out of its cage than the store clerk who helped us. Ben played for that hamster for something like 5 minutes before it got tired (well, before it peed on the clerk) and we put it away.

 

He's convinced. He's already told Steve exactly what exercise balls he wants for his new hamster.

 

I'm still trying to figure out how you introduce a hamster into a house with a mouse-hunting cat...

 

We still do not have a hamster. I have placed a few kid books on hold that discuss caring for a hamster. I'm hoping if I stall long enough, Ben will lose interest...

 

Wish me luck!

 

Steve has a tradition. It probably started when he was living with his folks. When he comes home from work and he's in for the night, he changes from his jeans to his sweat pants. From his "hard" clothes to his "soft" clothes. Steve introduced me to the idea of soft clothes way back when I lived with him in Kansas. In fact, I bought my first pair of sweat pants (from JC Penny in Lawrence, Kansas).

 

Steve has introduced Ben to soft clothes. We've bought him his first pair and I hemmed them up about five inches. (The kid has a solid waist that needs a size eight even tho his legs aren't quite long enough for that size.) Ben loves his sweats. He cries when we get home too late for him to put his soft clothes on. He loves it when Steve tells him it's time to change into his soft clothes. For some reason, Ben refuses to put on his soft clothes by himself. He wants someone (preferably both someones) to wear soft clothes with him.

 

A few days ago, Ben was wearing his sweat pants, standing in front of me. I put my hands on his hips and shook him back and forth. Then noticed that I wasn't noticing something. No "panty lines." Ben wears boxer briefs, and again, because of waist issues, his underpants bunch up a bit around his legs so they are obvious when you've got your hands on his hips. I pulled his sweats away from his back and took a peek. Yup: no underpants.

 

Mama: Ben! Where are your underpants?

Ben: I took 'em off.

Mama: ??

Papa: Wha??

Mama: Ben, you need to wear your underpants even when you're wearing your soft clothes.

Ben: But I always take them off when I wear my soft clothes!

 

Two days later, soft clothes again. Commando. Again.

 

I'm clearly going to have to wash these a little more often.

Or, perhaps, it's time to get to the gym.

 

Ben has a wicked cold. Bad cough. Lots of "lung butter." He's tired and exhausted and coughing and I took pity on him and offered to let him shower with me this morning, thinking the hot water and steam would help loosen up his chest congestion.

 

The little bugger joined me in the shower, then looked at me and said, "Your belly is jiggly."

Mama: Yes, yes it is. Sigh.

Ben: It's jiggly like Santa Claus's.

Mama: Yes, yes it is, Ben.

Ben: But it's not as big as Santa Claus's.

Mama: No, no it isn't. Sign. Ben, can I have the hot water now?

Ben: You're butt's jiggly too.

 

He is so not joining me in the shower again.