So I promised my boys we’d decorate for Halloween this year. I don’t know why I promise these kinds of things. I actually hate Halloween decorations–they’re not pretty. (I almost wrote that I hate Halloween, but then I realized that that’s a big fat lie. What’s to hate? It’s just a giant excuse to eat candy. And I do. I buy Halloween candy from the moment it’s on the shelves on September 4th and don’t quit until I’ve looted the boys’ buckets after trick-or-treating. Who loves Reese’s? I do.)
And so I dragged my overtired rear to Target this morning and spent $30 bucks on Halloween decorations. Styrofoam gravestones, orange mini-lights, giant cobwebs, and a white sheet set to tear up for ghosts to hang from the trees; oh, we’re set. Along with the four jack-o-lanterns we’ll be carving this weekend (another thing I’ve promised), it’ll be ghastly. I mean ghostly. Whatever. They’ll love it.