Usually, I'm pretty indifferent. Usually it's just another day. And sure, I dressed up as a kid. I remember being a mad scientist, an indian, a pumpkin, and a ballerina. (Actually I don't remember the ballerina. I did see a picture though from when I was a wee tike.) I would collect my candy with Kyle and then we'd sort it out for days and days, and I'd eat all the stuff that I didn't really like first and save the best for last.
I'm such a best-for-last kind of girl.
This year, however, I work at a daycare. I teach three year olds. Let me give you a portrait of my day in words:
- 10 costumes to change the kids out of
- 4 princesses, 1 pirate, 1 spiderman, not to be confused with 1 spider, 1 clown with a nose that honks, 1 Thomas the Train, and 1 that didn't show up for the costume parade so I don't know what the heck he was.
- 11 parents; that crowded into the room, coddled their kids until they didn't want to play but only wanted to go home; asked me if daycare was, "always this chaotic?"
- 1 lost shoe which resulted in a phone call to me after hours in regards to said shoe's location
- 10 three year olds on a sugar high
- 5 parents who made goodie bags x ten kids a piece = 50 goodie bags to stuff into
- 10 milk jugs crafted into candy storage the day before
To put a cherry on top of it all: as I got out of my car at home I was greeted by a kid in a Chuckie costume (mask and all) with a butter knife pointed at me, standing behind my car, asking me if I "wanted to play?" and then advancing upon me with the butter knife as I walked up the steps, sure that he was about it embed it into my spine.I. hate. Halloween.
