Yeah, so I don't blog too often these days! It's not my fault, I can't help it, life moves too fast for me. ;o)
Small One was, in fact, a very aggressive trick or treat-er, commanding us to "go that way!" right before she took off in whatever direction at a dead run, sometimes saying trick or treat, sometimes telling people her name, sometimes just asking for candy. Usually said "thank you", though, so it's all good.
I meant to blog over Halloween weekend, actually, because I got super excited that my friend Kat is doing giveaways every weekend for 10 weeks:
And she started it off with giving away all sorts of "Wicked" related goodies! Wowza! My Middle Child would give her left arm (well, maybe not-thanks Lilly) for Wicked tickets, and perhaps a lesser body part for other "Wicked" paraphernalia. Must...win...giveaway...save...MC's...body parts...
But, I got distracted. Because I was trying to get ready for a big surprise for my mom's birthday.
Then, of course, the election was upon us. Despite the hype, I was in and out of the polling place in about 3 minutes. Took the Small One with me, and she was charming and well behaved, but we were in there JUST long enough to have a run in with an obnoxious mama... you know the type, probably it was her first baby, and truly, the ONLY baby ever worth having, certainly the best one to grace THIS planet, not to be touched or viewed by other, lesser humans. She really should keep it home, is all I'm saying.
Here's what happened. We were waved over to the table where high maintenance mama and her precious offspring were signing in, (I'll call them HMM and PO from here on out) and my Small said "Ooh! A baby!". Didn't make a move TOWARDS the baby, stood about 2 feet away, holding her own baby doll with both hands. Then when we went to the voting booth, we walked down to the one next to HMM and PO. The woman turned to me with PANIC on her face, and said "I don't want your child touching my baby!!!!!!", pronouncing the word "child" as though she meant "disgusting street urchin" or maybe "poisonous snake". I said "Oh, don't worry, she won't touch her." (Again, Small is standing 2 feet away from the carriage, which is one of those that's pretty high off the ground ANYWAY, and also again, she's holding a babydoll in both hands. Not even considering touching little PO.)
HMM goes into full freak-out mode. Flaps her arms a la Wallace and Gromit. Says, in a DESPERATE tone, "I would move away from your booth, but I've already started voting!!!!!!" I said "Oh WHATEVER, Lady! I'll move. Come on, Small, this Lady doesn't want you to touch her baaaabbbbeeeee." Yes, I was sarcastic. But I moved. After I sneezed on her baby. Was that wrong? Actually, I didn't sneeze on her, but I hope SOMEONE did, because what I really wanted to do was lick her.
After we voted, we hit the road! Whee! For the second year in a row, we drove 6 hours to pop in on my mom for her birthday. Next year, we can't possibly pull the same trick, because it'll hardly be a surprise if we keep doing it every year! "Yawn... when are Amy and Small One showing up for my surprise birthday party?"
But, readers, you'd have been proud of me. I got all crazy domestic before the trip. I made lasagna and chocolate chip cookies- two batches! One to leave here to feed the folks staying home, one to take with us so we didn't have to say "Surprise!!! Feed us!!!" And these weren't ordinary cookies either, folks... no, these were Jessica Seinfeld Cookies, complete with super sneaky vegetables in them. (They were chick peas, and no, you can't tell they're even in there.) I made a double batch of Jessica Seinfeld's mac & cheese, too! I made turkey meatballs. I brought fruit and vegetables. I was so super organized, I didn't even recognize me.
My mother was surprised, the visit was relaxing, movies were watched, games were played, no one spent too much time in the kitchen, we even squeezed in a trip to the beach. Small One was well behaved and stuck beautifully to her regular schedule... the only downer on the trip is that she seems to have caught a cold. Probably from that germy little election day baby.