Halloween recap

In keeping with tradition, Samson, Jacob (the bee), and Oliver (ducky, which is his version of La-La) got together to do some trick or treating. Apparently three is the age where it clicks that free candy from strangers and being out at night is awesome.

Vicki was trying to get these guys to sit still and smile for the picture, when, in a fit of inspiration, she asked them to say "trick or poop." Comic gold. Also a little confusing for the houses left to be visited, but well worth the looks on their faces. Say what you will, but the word "poop" is just funny. I don't care how old you are.

Because Oliver's costume required explanation, I guess Samson figured that such action was part of the Halloween experience. So after saying trick or treat (or poop), he would inform the candy-giver, in all seriousness, "I'm a fireman." Occasionally he'd also let it be known that he was really Samson but in a fireman's costume. Full disclosure trick or treating.

It was too cool for Jane to go in just her dancer's costume, but the tutu held up pretty well over her pajamas. And she's started doing this really funny thing where she makes bubbles with her saliva while saying "mmwaaa, mmmwaaa." Apparently I did this as a child. We'll try and get a photo.

She's got two teeth coming in on top but not the front ones. So very shortly sweet Jane will have fangs. Good times.

I don't know that she's ever been outside at 7:30 at night, so for her this was like Alice stepping through the looking glass. We were probably only outside for 20 minutes, but she spent most of our walk looking around in absolute wonder.

Or maybe it was silent envy at the dozens of lollipops Samson was hauling in at every stop on the way. We all discovered last night that the downside to the boys being big enough to approach the houses on their own, as opposed to being carried to the door, is that they tend to pick out the candy they want. Which means Samson came home with enough lollipops to reenact the entire first season of Kojak. Bleah.

Halloween recap

I convinced Vicki to cut her class last night so we could take Samson trick-or-treating with his friends Jake and O, the giraffe and frog, respectively. Our little plush menagerie hit all of three houses before the boys collectively gave up, but I think given the circumstances (time change, strangers in their faces, not being able to eat what they got), we did just fine.

Poor Samson is probably glad to see Halloween come and go; he's worn that lion costume more than he's worn some of his pajamas at this point.

And the fact that he hated wearing the lion headpiece might actually be a blessing in disguise. His feline headgear antipathy might just save us a voice mail like this in the future: "Hi Mom and Dad. Just wanted to call with some good news: I've gotten the lead in a dinner theater revival of Cats! I'm Rum-Tum-Tugger. Isn't that fantastic? I'll send you guys comp tickets once we're out of rehearsal. Also, when you come you should try the prime rib --- it's very good."

Halloween recap

What a difference a year makes. The boys met at Oliver's house for dinner and some trick or treating.

Unlike last year, however, the guys were a little more on the ball about the whole getting candy thing. This is the best we could do for a group photo.

Also, I made the mistake of teaching Samson the noun "loot," as in, "Hey buddy, do you want me to hold your pumpkin? I don't want you to lose all your loot."

Big mistake: The entire drive home from Oliver's (all seven minutes of it) was a lamentation on the fact that he could not hold his "loot" and that he very much wanted to.

Even so, the boys had a great time visiting houses and digging in for some free candy. I'm not sure they got the "only one" rule, but they all remembered to say thank you at each house.

Kudos to Vicki for getting this shot at the end of the night. It lasted about three seconds before all the sugar kicked back in and they were off and running again. Hence the wailing and gnashing of teeth about "my looooot."

Birthday recap

Samson spent his third birthday much like he spent his first, kind of sick and slightly feverish. Even so, we had a little pizza party at the house with Nana and Papi, and Sam got some pretty cool gifts, including the Playmobil skate park you see above.

For weeks he'd been asking for a skateboard, and we actually did get him a scooter for his birthday [pictures to follow, including one that shows what happens when speed and Samson meet gravity and pavement]. But this seemed like the most sensible way to handle the skateboard request.

And I'm pretty sure it's a hit: He tried to take it into bed with him last night.

We pulled up some old Bones Brigade videos on You Tube so Samson could see real skaters doing cool tricks. Which got me to thinking that when I was a kid, part of the appeal of skateboarding was its rebellious image.

There were probably only a handful of kids (mostly guys) in any given junior high school who could have told you who Animal Chin was, much less who was looking for him.

Likewise, to have a "skateboarding is not a crime" sticker on your locker, book bag, etc. signaled you were out of the mainstream and intentionally so. [Full disclosure: I didn't have one of those, but I wanted one. I was also pretty lame on a skateboard, lacking the necessary components of coordination and fearlessness --- and of course, actually owning a board --- that would have made me a decent skater. I did have a lot of friends who skated though, and I'm happy to rewrite history so that my son thinks I had to make a tough decision between focusing on my skating or writing for the school paper.]

[Sidenote: This is not unlike the kind of revisionist music history that you see in movies, like Donnie Darko, where the Halloween party has Joy Division and Echo and the Bunnymen playing in the background. I can say, proudly and truthfully, that I listened to those bands in the 80s, but I remember the parties I went to usually had soundtracks provided by White Snake or Steve Miller Band. I digress.]

Anyway, clearly times have changed, which makes me wonder if Samson's generation --- having been raised to think of skating as mainstream in the same way that listening to "alternative" music is hardly alternative at all --- will go the other way. Will we see stickers on lockers like "Debating is not a crime" or "Model U.N.: If you have to ask, you wouldn't understand."?