We welcome Fall with orange pumpkins and yellow hay
And a toddle through the Pumpkin Patch. Horray!
Sheldon is now walking. Usually he is walking and dragging his stuffed bunny by the ear, but I don't have a picture of that yet.
Tomorrow we will force him into a Toy Story Alien suit and introduce him to the grand tradition of being stuck with the lame costume because you are the littlest and your older brother has already called "dibs" on Buzz Lightyear. Last year, Shel was a hotdog, because his Momma is awesome like that. He was actually a screaming hotdog. He was actually a screaming hotdog for five minutes and then? He went back to being a small baby.
Perhaps this year he will be a Ten Minute Angry Alien before he transforms into a toddler.
A Halloween Confession and A Random Story that Doesn't Have A Point Really:
I am irrationally afraid of the beginning of Pirates of the Caribbean 3. It is, in my humble opinion, a lame movie, yet I am still nervous when the beginning starts up. Derrick is watching it, and I think I shall retire to my chamber and dream about candy. Am I alone in this fear of Disney action adventure?
I have never, ever, never, liked Pirates of the Caribbean. Ask my dear Grandma, who took my 'sis and I to Disneyland when I was knee high to a parrot. First, we went on the Jungle Ride and the animatronic hippos made me nervous, but I was fine because the tour guide had a gun.
Sadly, the next ride was Pirates of the Caribbean. I got worried when the skull started talking but then? Then, there was a gun fight complete with cannons LANDING AROUND OUR BOAT! AND? There was not a gun in our boat this time. AND? I thought the weaponry was real. AND? I screamed hysterically for the entire ride BECAUSE I THOUGHT THE PIRATES WERE SHOOTING AT US. To this day, the memory is burned into Grandma's brain, and she confesses to being tempted to swim for shore.
We spent the rest of the day on "Small World". I refused to go on anything else.
The End.
Okay, Since It's Halloween Here's ANOTHER Scary Story, You're Welcome:
I have never done well with scary movies. We have some terrible friends that would make us watch scary movies (until I put my foot and my shoe down and said "NO!"). They made me watch a Steven King movie about an alien, but not a cute green Toy Story Alien, but some bacterial alien that came out of toilets...and it was scary...and then I had to use the bathroom myself.
I cried.
Then? Derrick and Adam (my friend's evil husband) started banging on the door while I was, um, preoccupied. I almost jumped into the sink involuntarily.
Then I yelled at them.
They learned their lesson I guess, because when I opened the door, Derrick and Adam jumped out at me and yelled a classic, "Roar!".
I started screaming and crying hysterically.
Halloween memories?
Sadly, I think this happened on Valentine's Day.
These same friends are coming over tomorrow for Halloween. We will not be watching a scary movie. We wont even be watching Pirates of the Caribbean 3. That ain't how I roll. I'm here for the candy, The End.
Linking up with Patty @ Finding Serendipity for a Halloween Masquerade Party. Be there or be squash. What?
