It was the party that almost wasn’t. First, a certain someone in the house who shall remain nameless forgot that we had planned a party for 40 and he decided that this weekend would be the perfect time to aerate and overseed the lawn.
Umm, that would be the lawn upon which all the little costumed children were supposed to frolic.
Then, as we were getting in the car Saturday night to go on a date to save our marriage because of the overseeding-the-yard-on-the-party-weekend decision, we discovered that the fuel line in Mr. CPQ’s tractor sprung a leak and dumped gas all over the floor of the garage.
Umm, that would be the garage in which we were going to hang cute decorations and serve food and such.
And the garage that I spent three hours cleaning and sweeping.
So we closed the garage door, hanging a sign above it that said “Happy Halloweew”.
That’s what you get for shopping the clearance aisle at the Dollar Store.
And for the record, no one noticed except for Travis.
My neighbors brought some Little Tykes picnic tables for the younger set, and on these I set Mason jars filled with pumpkin candies. I had a cornucopia on the food table and a tall square lantern filled with pine cones and twigs on the utensil table.
My mom helped me decorate the mailbox when she was here, so I left it as it was, added luminaries up the driveway, and hung friendly little ghost cutouts from the trees.
When the boys weren’t busy adding extra layers of duct tape to their costumes, they helped me make the cake pops that were given as party favors to the kids.
Pardon the expressions – they were told to look fierce. “Fierce” somehow works better than “smile” with my crew.
The look on Tommy’s face is what happens when sugar delirium and sleep deprivation get together.
And despite the gas fumes and the grass seed and forgetting to serve the cider, we had a wonderful evening with our friends and neighbors, and everyone wants to do it at my house again next year.
In another year, I may be ready.
Have a nice day.