Spider-Vader and The Bee

Not sure what precipitated the change, but Gabriel has discovered his inner “NO!” Okay, I know he’s almost two, but there has been absolutely nothing gradual about his sense of empowerment. Last night I lost track of him for, o, maybe two minutes, and the next thing I know, John is yelling “Did you notice what Gabriel is doing?” Sitting in the bathroom sink, with his pajamas on, water running. Two minutes. As Jonah likes to ask, “Are you seer-ious?” I’m serious.

After coaxing him into his bumblebee suit, G was all over the trick-or-treating gig. Refused to be carried. Refused to give up the candy, once it was in his grubby little paw. Screamed at the top of his lungs if we tried. Insisted on running from house to house in the dark, crumbly uneven sidewalks notwithstanding. Where did my sweet, amenable boy go? I swear, he was here just last week.

Speaking of amenable, Jonah went the Spider-Vader route, except he didn’t wear the helmet. As John commented, it makes a nice and expensive candy bucket. It’s amazing what a year will do. As I remember it, J was all wonder and astonishment last Halloween when he realized that people were just going to give him candy. He repeatedly chanted, “Happy Tricker Treat! Give me something to eat!” This year, he seemed to be (rather rudely) analyzing every piece, his face buried in the bag before he even turned around to head back down the sidewalk. Odds are he was thinking to himself, “Will I be able to eat it?” We’ve cut out all gummy/chewy candy because his teeth are kind of rotten and artificial colors because they make him crazy. Kind of sucks, especially when you get a Sponge Bob Squarepants gummy Crabby Patty, whose creator went to the trouble of stamping the lettuce and the bun to make them sort of look like lettuce and a bun.

I think the best part of the day was the all-city trick-or-treat from 3-5. It was a beautiful afternoon. Just the right degree of cold and sun. Jonah handed out candy while I bagged leaves, and he was beside himself with excitement, especially when the older, more ghoulish characters showed up. “Ooooo, he’s so spooky! Why’s he so spooky mom?” “O! Another spooky one!” He wrung his hands and hopped about, running down the sidewalk to fill the buckets and having to run back for more and spilling a fair share from the Tonka trunk we’d stowed it in (a gimmick G was none too pleased by when he woke from his nap. He stood at the front door pointing and shouting “guck!”). Our winner for best suit: a plasticky grim reaper type with a special button that made the mask fill with blood. “Why does it fill up with blood mom?” he repeatedly asked. I told him it wasn’t real blood. “O yes, it’s red paint,” was his response, followed by an “Is it?” He was alternately fascinated and freaked. One of his favorite spaces to be.

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