Things My Kids Say That Make My Blood Run Cold

Bear (musing): I think I may want to be a cage dancer.

Now Seeking Donations Toward My Cat's Psychiatric Care

Several years ago, my kids made a trio of Halloween spiders. Some five or six years later, they are admittedly a little worse for the wear but much loved. The kids still drag them out every Halloween and always set them together right by the TV.

I think Bear made this one in preschool. Notice the gouges in his side where his pipe cleaner legs have been repeatedly removed and repositioned. Lovely, no?
Bug made this one at a Halloween party when she was three. She was very, very insistent that he needed to be pink and orange. He looks like he's been hitting the sauce, doesn't he?

I've become a little bit attached to the bedraggled critters over the years. They remind me of my two tiny Trick-or-Treaters, who desperately wanted the candy but were still freaked out by the spookier aspects of Halloween.

So the other day, I'm sitting in the living room chatting with a friend when I notice that there are only TWO spiders in front of the TV. Suspicions aroused, I leap up and exclaim, "Where's the other spider? One's missing!", completely freaking out my friend who basically saw me leap out of my chair as though electrocuted and shout "spider!"

I immediately assume a cat (specifically Maisy, who has a propensity for swiping anything made with fluff) has nabbed one for a toy. I commission my friend to help me search. We walk through rooms, scanning floors, peeking under beds, and looking for tell-tale bits of fluff.

When I walk into the dining room, I discover this:

And so, it is with deepest regret that I must announce Spider #3, a pink fluff and pipe cleaner arachnid handcrafted by Bear at age six whilst she was in the throes of her princess phase, has met with a watery grave followed by a quick yet respectful disposal in the kitchen trash can.

Because no WAY was I keeping a fluffball spider that had been marinating in the cat bowl all day. Ew.

To their credit, Bear and Bug were more amused with Maisy than upset about the spider.

Raking Leaves, Kid Style

You don't have to be a parent for very long to realize that kids are not voluntarily helpful unless there's something in it for them. Sometimes they're angling to lick the spatula; other times they're softening you up before they ask for something big; once in awhile it's just for the praise. I've yet to have Bear or Bug pitch in and help for purely selfless reasons. So when I saw Bug and Bear raking up the leaves by the driveway, I harbored no delusions about what their master plan was.
Nope, I just ran inside and got my camera because I knew this was coming:

Also this:

Which quickly segued into The Battle of the Leaves:
Miss Woodland Sprite (who later found leaf bits in her underwear):
Bear, who is way too mature to watch Disney princess movies with her sister but not too mature to roll around in leaves like a chimpanzee:
Help! Our mother buried us in leaves!

They offered to bury me, too. I declined, but I will watch Disney princess movies. Maturity is relative.

Seize the Apples

Usually my awareness of leaf season goes something like this: oooh, pretty! wow, gorgeous! oooh, I should definitely take some pictures today! man, tomorrow I'll for sure get my camera out and take some shots!...whoa, where did all the color go and who the HELL put all those dead leaves on my lawn?

But Friday was one of those autumn days that was so absolutely scintillating in its perfection that it made me feel all carpe diem. The sky sparkled blue. The leaves positively screamed with color, and fluffy little milkweed spores drifted lazily through the air. I picked the girls up from school and declared that today was an apple picking day. They were enthusiastic.

"And can we get ice-cream on the way?" inquired the always-enterprising Bug.

Well. Why not?

We munched our cones (rum raisin for me, which I know sounds wrong but is just awesome. I made fun of it for six years before I finally tried it.) as we drove out of town, down the little country road that leads to The Apple Farm. This was all around us:Spirits were high as we headed into the orchard:Some of us felt the need to break into impromptu kick lines:Guess who wore herself out half an hour later and morphed into La Grande Crabbe Who Is Too, Too Tired To Carry Her Own Apple Picker? And raise your hand, please, if you saw that coming.

Still, Little Miss Cranky Pants and swarms of teeny gnats aside, it was a great afternoon.

Bear shows off her bag of Winter Banana apples:

Peak

This is what it looks like outside my house today:

But, Honey, It Was On My List

While shopping at Target today, one item on my shopping list gave me pause. Written in a somewhat childish (say, eight-ish) hand, right beneath "deodorant" and "shampoo" was:

A CAT

Nice try, sweetie.