Oy.

I don't feel so good.


Big lunch today with in-laws, then pre-candy from neighbors, then the actual candy, then the post-trick-or-treating candy, and then a glass of wine and chili. The chili is where my stomach said, "You know what? Screw you. I'm done taking one for the team, let the large intestine deal with this crap."  (Look at me.  It's a Halloween pun.)

I have some photos of the Worst Halloween Costumes Ever, aka Bert and Ernie, as worn by CH and myself, and photos of the kidlets, and then, a photo of George the Superpet.

In dramatic cliffhanger-like fashion, I am going to tell you that George the Superpet had an awesome costume, and you are never going to guess what it was.  Tonight, I go to bed with Prilosec and the bitter taste of regret.  Tomorrow is the first full day of my new career as a Hooker, and then tomorrow night, after driving Miss Daisy and her siblings to cello lessons, basketball and dance, I shall find the cord to download photos from my camera and unveil The Best Superpet Costume Ever.

Until then, Happy Halloween, you scary people.  I'll be bahk.