I made the executive decision not to take Adrian out trick-or-treating, as most of the stuff he would receive he wouldn't be able to eat (choking hazards and all that). Instead he helped me hand out candy to the trick-or-treaters, an activity he declared "exciting!" at one point in the evening. I was dissapointed in the lack of costumed youth, however. I expect it from high schoolers--a group of which told me there were dressed up as high school students, but when a gaggle of elementary school kids shows up at your door wearing the same clothes they wore home from school it's a little disheartening. I love Halloween--when I was little I wore my costumes for months of dress-up, when I was in highschool I used to spend weeks planning and making my own elaborate costumes. Now that I have no where to wear a costume, I throw on some bunny ears and call it a night. I can't wait until Adrian is old enough to get into the spirit of costumes and candy.
This morning, I was on the couch reading and Adrian was enjoying a snack of raisins--or so I thought. I looked up when he declared"uh-oh".
"What? Uh-oh what, A.D.?"
He looks at me with a perplexed face and sticks his finger into his right nostril, "raisin" he tells me.
"Raisin? Are you telling me you have a raisin in your nose?"
Finger still inserted in nostril, "Yes. Raisin nose"
(Gah! Panic! No, no. Wait, remain calm.)
"How about we take that finger out of your nose, then?" I grab a flashlight, convince him to tilt his head back, and sure enough, there in the mucusy confines of his nose a raisin waves back at me. "Blow", I tell him.
He does, nothing happens.
I press the empty nostril closed.
He does, and again, nothing.
And voila--a snot covered raisin rocket lands in my lap.
Than he wants me to clean it off so he can eat it.
I don't think so, pal.