Happy Halloween!

I can't say I've ever been a huge fan of Halloween.  After the traumatic spider incident (where I was mistaken for a Purple People Eater), it just didn't hold the same joy for me.  There was the year I went as a colonial lady and Sarah went as Rapunzel; my drab dress and brown up-do wig just couldn't compete with her silvery-blond tresses and powder blue gown.  And one of my first memories of public humiliation was in kindergarten, when I was forced to take the stage in my ballerina costume.  As I turned to the microphone to tell the audience what I was (kind of obvious with the pink tutu and all, but those were the instructions), the principal turned away and I ended up saying, "I'm a ballerina" with no mic in front of me.  I don't know why I was so embarrassed - I was six, for God's sake - but I can still remember it like it was yesterday.

But then I grew up.  And some time between the ages of six and thirty-one, I gained enough confidence to appear in public in a leotard.  Either that, or I lost my mind.  I'm leaning toward the latter.

Keepin' it classy.

Fortunately, by the time we attended the Halloween parade yesterday afternoon all ill effects from the tasty but surprisingly potent punch I consumed on Friday night had worn off.  Jack looked rather dashing in his bear suit, if I do say so myself.

Jack surveys his adoring fans.

"I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United Bears of America."

Now that I can dress my child up in adorable costumes, I'm learning to love Halloween.  Jack is hibernating as we speak, resting up for the main event: trick or treating in Old Town.  Hope to see some of you there!

"RRRRROOOOAAAARRRRR!!!"