Halloween is not exactly a done thing in these parts.
Oh sure, the odd shop has a few random pumpkins littering their window display. And the corner store suddenly puts a massive markup on bags of fun sized candy bars for the few people (like me) who think "Holy crap, must have chocolate on hand for the evil army of the undead/children up past their bedtime and hyped up on sugar that shall descend upon me!"
But round here, that evil army generally gets sent to bed at an appropriate time to foster their emotional and physical development, after eating their politically correct dinner of ethically farmed chicken nuggets and organic hydroponic mung beans. And so the bumper sized pack of Mini!! Fun Sized!! SnickerMarsWay Bars!!! mysteriously vanishes over the next week or two, and months later wrappers are found stuffed behind the couch cushions, or inside the abridged Oxford English Dictionary. Ahem. Dang cats.
But now I have a Pugsley. And as the Pugsley's own personal Mamarazzi, it appears to be my duty to "Create Memories". So while she may be too young for the chocolate, the terrorising of the neighbours, or the hacking of the pumpkins - oh my, can she be dressed up.
And I have the perfect outfit for all three of us.
|It allows her to be comfortable, cute, and for me to not have to do any sewing.|
|It allows me to be comfortable, (fairly) cute, and not to have to do any sewing.|
|It requires the Tall Guy to wear tights, a wig, makeup, and a codpiece.|
I am so making this happen.