We ventured out last evening to our cute little village's annual pumpkin festival despite the chilly temperatures and two uncooperative boys. [Think the minute we got one pottied and changed, the other then had to be pottied or changed, and toddler would not allow us to dress him without wailing like we'd told him he'd never eat another Elmo cookie ever again.] But I was positive that if we just made it out the door, our night would take a glorious turn for the better and we'd come home with decorated pumpkins, hot apple cider in our tummies, Halloween treats in our bags and perhaps a few awesome pictures for the grandparents.
Upon arriving, we discovered that chilly was, indeed, an understatement; the temperature must have dropped seven or so degrees during the ten minutes it took to get from point A to point B. Still, we persevered and walked to Central Park where we were greeted by Superman, two princesses and a giant dog who looked like a cow but insisted he was a dog. Whatever.
I tried to get the toddler to pose with one of them, but he only had eyes for the decorations lining the festive path.
Particularly, the toddler was drawn to the giant spider on the side of a building. He nicely told the lady and several older men standing by the giant spider "Mommy say AHHHHH when she see a bug. But I like bugs."
I smiled, laughed with the lovely folks and ushered my toddler further down the path ...
where he tried to abscond with a giant rat.
The baby was riding in his favorite wrap and sported a cute little pumpkin hat atop his head, which I'm pretty sure lured a very nice woman over to us. She asked if I wanted her to take a picture of us with my camera.
I politely said yes. You will notice my face is very red because my toddler told the nice lady "you need to go in a timeout because you make me sad for taking my picture."
I think the expression on his face reinforces what he thought about that nice lady. Guess she didn't seem so nice to him because her offer prompted mommy to drag him away from trying to steal the giant rat so he could instead pose for yet another photo.
Finally, hubby met up with us and bought us some tickets to play the games and do the activities. I was relieved to have someone else with whom I could share responsibility of the toddler. We only had about five minutes together as a family, though, before the baby began squawking because he wanted milk. The baby and I headed back to the car, and the toddler and daddy continued to cheat their way through games.
Upon arriving back in the car after spending all of his tickets, the toddler proudly showed me his cool tattoo. Hubby later explained that while he and the toddler were discussing the tattoo, the toddler almost gave the nice older lady applying said tattoo a heart attack from laughing so stinkin' hard.
"Where do you want the tattoo?" the lady asked my son.
Very loudly he replied, "On my butt!!"
My quick-thinking hubby turned the conversation around and suggested he place it on his hand so more people could see it. The toddler agreed, and my hubby promptly ushered our little guy away before our son could elaborate on his desire for the placement of the tattoo to be on that exact part of his anatomy.
"I got him out of there because I didn't want him to tell her he wanted it on his butt because mommy's tattoo is on her butt!" my husband said as he relayed the conversation to me.
Ahem, I do NOT have a tattoo on my butt; rather it is on my lower back; but to the toddler, it may as well be on my butt. And it's been a hot topic for conversation since the toddler discovered it on my back a few weeks ago. I'm just really it didn't turn into a hot topic with the lady from the park district who was giving him his tattoo. The hubs hightailed it out of the fest after that, so we did not get our pumpkins, apple cider or cute family pictures.
But at least we came home with some candy in which we could drown our embarrassment. Perhaps we should have been shoveling it in the toddler's mouth.