That's what we were for Halloween, in case it wasn't obvious in yesterday's photo. Owen wanted to be the kind of astronaut who walked on the moon, so that led me down the path to the 60s, and I decided Scott could be a space age cyborg and I could be a mod Martian (see my googly eyelashes?!!!). My favorite wrong guesses about what we were? For me, a bug. For Scott, Bear Bryant or Don Draper with hickies. (For any of you who feel invested in seeing Scott dressed up for Halloween each year, always pretend you know exactly who he is. Every wrong guess reduces our odds of seeing him
humiliated costumed next October :)
We had our 2nd annual neighborhood cookout in the cul-de-sac last night. It's hard to say for sure which kid was the cutest, but Dorothy's saucer eyes and pigtail wig melted me a little.
Oh, and the hoses on Owen's pack are supposed to be attached to his suit, but he liked leaving them hanging and pretending he wore a jet pack. I made one attempt to explain that they were meant to be oxygen hoses that he needed for breathing on the moon, but ultimately I swallowed my O, C and D and embraced the quirkiness of it. (Though I still feel the need to explain this all publicly. Hmm...)
It was a great Halloween, and I was sad to have to shed our costumes at the end of it. Owen was pretty tired though. That last photo is of him right before he fell to his knees on the floor of Aunt Charolette and Uncle Tommy's house. He was done. Cooked. Kaput.
But he woke up fully charged this morning and announced he's going to be Yoda again next year. This time with an authentic green light saber. No lame cardboard cane like last year. We'll see!