Look at that dog!

Last night was my small town's annual Halloween parade. We go every year - local businesses open up to trick or treaters, and afterward there is a parade through town with firetrucks & marching bands and social clubs throwing candy to spectators. It's something I have been doing since I was a kid, and it;s always fun. This year however, there was an added bonus.

In addition to the previously mentioned groups, individuals can walk in the parade and show off their costumes. you will see a lot of regular, store-bought costumes, along with some really creative ones. This year, the best I saw was a kid dressed as a Lego man. I don't have a photo, because I was so mesmerized by how perfect it was that I forgot I had a camera.

One staple of these parades is dogs in costumes. You will see dogs dressed as Steelers, dogs as bumblebees, dogs as princesses. One year, there was a tiny Cinderella in a carriage being pulled by dogs. This year, there was a Cruella de Vil with a bunch of dalmatians. And being the dog lovers that we are, if you sit anywhere near us, you will hear repeated, excited cries of, "Look at that dog!"

Toward the end of this year's parade, I saw a cute dog heading our way in a tutu and fairy wings. I pointed it out to the girl & her friend, knowing they would love it. But then it got a little closer and I noticed that Wait! That's not a dog! And those of you that know me will understand how much it pleased me to see what it really was:




















Yes, my friends - that is a goat. A Tutu Fairy Goat. The only thing that would have made it better for me would have been if it had fainted from my camera flash. Best goat ever.

And as a bonus, her's my little Flamenco dancer:

























And my insane son:

























(he almost didn't wear it bevcause it was supposed to rain and apparenty wearing one of those in the rain can cause drowning. Or something)

Random Crap

I’m sick. But I won’t say much about that because I hate whiny sick blogging. Also – I refuse to accept sickness because I have too many things going on, like the girl’s birthday and Halloween madness fun drunkosity. And dammit, I refuse to be sick.

I will, however, say this about being sick: My mother will drive me crazy one of these days. I know she loves me and cares about me. And I know she worries. I do it myself – one kid sniffles once and I’m running through all the horrible diseases on earth (and perhaps the universe) in my head, while remaining calm on the outside. So I get it. I really do. But, I swear, if I hear one more accusation & demand that “You better start taking care of yourself!” I will punch someone.

Despite what she seems to believe I do take care of myself. I’m not diving into biohazard bins at the hospital in my free time. I take vitamins. I try to eat (somewhat) healthy. I get a flu shot. But a few years back, I had H1N1 and it did a serious number on my immune system – I still get sick more easily, and illnesses seem to hit me a little harder than they did before. And I have these two things in my house. These germ-filled pastries known as “kids”. So, Mom? When I am sick, if what is coming out of your mouth is anything other than the following:

“Poor baby!”
“Let me make you some soup!”
“Can I take the kids for you?”
“Here is some Nyquil/Advil/wine.”

Then, please – I’m begging you: SHUT UP ABOUT IT ALREADY!

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In other news, I have the only golden retriever in the entire world that is not a love pig. Which is what makes the slobber & hair worth it. What the fuck?

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And I just got back from my annual work retreat at a lovely resort on the bay, where I had great food, lots of (free) booze, a massage, bike-riding, shopping and a sunset cruise. Only to return to a house that looks like pigs live in it. Not figurative pigs – actual farm pigs. And lots and lots of bullshit drama. So I am just going to think about this instead:

PSA

A Public Service Announcment to you men out there: If your wife/girlfriend is freaking out about the Buick-sized, clearly evil, (wo)man-eating, hell spider, do NOT attempt to reassure her by saying, "There's probably a lot more than just that one." It will help her sanity and is probably better for your own safety, as well.

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And while we're on the subject of creepy crawlies, I had the opportunity to take the girl to the Bugs & Butterflies Ball at the Carnegie Museum this weekend. When I forst read about it, I was all set to take her. then I saw that the tickets were $125 and $50 and I figured we could stay home and have a Stinkbugs & Spiders Soiree for free. But I was lucky enough to win four tickets on the radio (by knowing my world geography, which I didn't think I knew), and not only were we able to go, we were able to take some friends.

It was a great event and the girls had so much fun. There was a yummy dinner, and open bar, crazy, beautiful, delicious desserets, anoyther open bar, crafts, a hilarious stilt walker named Carmen Louisa Conchita Miranda Chiquita Banana, a scavenger hunt, balloon animals, an opportunity to get a photo with Dino Dan, face painting, and lots of other fun stuff. We loved it. Oh, and we got to go behind the scvnenes to the Alcohol Room and see the creepy crawlies in jars. And there was fake poop to touch. What's not to love?