Dorothy, Don Juan, and Princess
They have spent the last 2 days in a resort with Grandma, in Oro Valley, swimming, and eating junk food.
Today we went to fabric stores, but stopped for drive-thru lunch before we hit the first shop. The kids really thought it was fun to run around the store, so we had to take them to the car for a time out, and an "ucky" change for little Dorothy. After a time in confinement we bribed them with candy if they would only behave. Two Hershey's kisses and one large tootsie roll later we were on our way home to costume up and head out for Daddy.
We went trick or treating, munching on our spoils as we shuffled from door to door in the Sam Hughes neighborhood. The Treaters had heaps and mounds of goodies dished out with generous hands. There were piles of emptied candy bags discarded behind them and tall stacks of fresh packages in line for the busy bowl. Once around the block had Emilia's basket filled, so into the van we hustled, and off to Josh and Renae's for their special treats we went. On the way, Emilia announced she had more than a filled basket.
"Ucky!"
While Jaren took Don Juan and Princess up to the Foster's apartment, I played hide and seek with diaper and wipes and helped our little sweetie get freshened up.
Each child got a huge box of Mike & Ike's in their bags. We made Sunday dinner plans, rejected home made chilly for the sake of Jaren's homework, and were off again to find the nearest drive-thru--again.
Poor Emilia. When the smell of grease wafted from the restaurant and mingled with the sweet salivating breath of her siblings, and her own mouth sucked on syrup drool, her body exploded with one final protest.
"UCKY!!"
We're ordering, and strapped in our buckles, I can't do anything. "shhhh, it's OK, baby"
...crying...
"shh"
...screaming...
"I know, I'll help you in a minute."
But that was the last diaper so I hope she can stand this a bit longer, that last one I put on her was the one I had packed for Joshua, 2 sizes too big for her.
"Ucky, ucky, ucky, UCKY!"
I reach back to sooth her by rubbing her leg as I hush her, but a hush is not what escapes my lips as I recoil from her thigh with a hand dripping in diarrhea.
I'll spare you the details, and fortunately for the limitations of the internet, the smell. Suffice it to say, a bag of wipes later, and bare bum riding on a cushion of paper towels and a prayer, we pushed on. We were even brave enough to detour for Mom's treat of Sonoran dogs, before we ventured home. Hard to believe one would still want one after that ordeal, that should indicate one of two things, they're that good, or we're that crazy--maybe a bit of both.
FYI: Too much treat can be awfully tricky
Happy Halloween