The Turner Halloween, Part 2

Last night was the Turner Halloween party. I didn't think they were putting it on this year, so I was not as prepared to have the kids dress up to the extent I was hoping. Even still, thanks to my mom, their dresses looked princess-tacular: (you bailed me out again, mom!)
Neve was not ready to part with her fairy wings however, while Fiona wanted nothing to do with them (a Purist-princess, if you will). So, we came to the conclusion that Neve would just have to be Fiona's fairy godmother, leaving Fiona the ultimate pink princess (although she made it clear that real princesses wouldn't be caught dead wearing white long-sleeved shirts under their dresses, but she would make an exception for me tonight.)

Terry went as a guy in a Member's Only jacket. What a scream! No, wait... that's the jacket he always wears.

As the sun set, the party became more and more spooky. There was a fun haunted house:
an inflatable air-walk, lots of craft booths and game booths, a rock-climbing wall,

and plastic rats:
There were vampire teeth:
and enough candy to ensure a pre-diabetic crash on the car ride home.

After a long night of eating absolute junk, their dresses had a Doritos glow down the front, along with chocolate and Spree stains. I had no energy to complete a load of laundry in time to have Fi's costume ready for her preschool Halloween party today. I made the executive decision that she would have to just wear last year's (and the year before's) Dorothy dress again. Terry gave me a "bad mommy" look, but I was still too tired to do the load of laundry. (So far this year, Fiona's managed to wear three different Halloween costumes before the actual day.) She was not happy that she was not a princess for school today. I tried making the Wizard of Oz package a bit more enticing by pulling her hair back into pigtails, putting her one-size-too-small Target red slippers on, and even offering to put a little make-up on her. As I pulled the second pigtail through the rubber band, she ran her fingers across the back of her head. As she looked down at her recycled costume, and felt the ultra-short pigtails poking out of the sides of her head she sort of mumbled,

"I look like a crap."

On top of the fact that I've never heard her say "crap" before, something about that "a" she put in there made me crack up. She wasn't mad, she wasn't sad, she was just stating what one feels after wearing a Halloween costume three years in a row.

Happy Halloween!