October 2012, Wyatt is six, Duncan is three.
Oh, wow. I just unintentionally scarred my children for life. I was going through my clothes to find stuff for Duncan to wear for his witch costume and I realized I actually have enough black clothing to outfit several witches. Wyatt always complains that I don’t also dress up for Halloween, so I thought I’d make him happy and turn myself into a witch as well. I threw on a long black skirt, an oversized black shirt, black boots, and an enormous black shawl and tucked my hair up into an orange-and-black striped felt witch’s hat with a fake gold buckle [read: NOT scary]. Then I snuck onto the front porch where the kids were working on a project together and let loose my best evil cackle…. I guess I just expected them to startle a bit and then turn and laugh to see me dressed as such, but they FREAKED OUT! Wyatt turned completely white, let out a blood-curdling shriek and threw a handful of nails at me before turning to run as fast as he could down the street. Duncan, bare-bottomed as usual, followed him all the way down the block, pumping his arms, breathing hard and yelling, “Help! Help! Help! Heeelllllppppp!”