We decided to have a low-key Halloween this year -- Max has a runny nose, he and Maggie are both too young to care whether or not they go trick-or-treating, and Ian and I are both too old and jaded to want to. Even a low-key Halloween at the Tillman house, however, is of course, a fiesta. We are unstoppably fun that way.
We kicked off the festivities this morning by finding an uninvited guest (yes, it is a real, live spider, and yes, it is gigantic) up by our air conditioning vent near the ceiling. I glared at him for awhile, working myself up into that state where you are so creeped out by a bug that you leap up and claw at yourself every time your hair or clothing brushes up against your skin. When I was reasonably certain that the spider was not taking the hint and leaving of his own accord, I got the mop out and, after a courage-working-up pause, I smooshed him. Well, I smooshed him sort of, and then he took offense and crawled into the air-conditioning vent, where he either finished dying or carved out a new and fabulous existence for himself out of the reach of my mop. Nature and I have had a troubled relationship of late.
Like I said, Max has a runny nose, and is not feeling quite himself. Like I may or may not have said, he is also becoming somewhat dramatically inclined. When you look at this picture, imagine him crying out, "HELP! HELP ME, MAMA!" in tones of great urgency, because that is what he was doing.
He can't hide all of his light under a bushel, though, no matter how melodramatic he tries to be. At heart, Max is just irrepressibly cheerful.
Especially if someone gives him a small sampling of Halloween candy.
Look at my beautiful daughter's sly little smirk. She looks like she and the pumpkins have a private joke. I wish I knew what it was. I bet it was funny.
Max dove quite enthusiastically into our pumpkin carving. He narrowly avoided getting carved himself, and even more narrowly avoided carving his mama. A helpful parenting tip: overexcited two-year old + slippery pumpkin innards + sharp knife = many opportunities for lost limbs.
Max was initially quite hesitant about touching the inside of the pumpkin. "Goo!" he said in tones of repulsed wonder. "Slimy! Pumpkin wet!" Ian makes a similar argument when asked to participate in pumpkin carving every year.
Unlike his father, however, Max proved persuadable, and many a slimy pumpkin seed was felled by his spoon.