Booky Halloween

Little Man can't say spooky. It sounds like booky.

Which works really well for Halloween. BOO-ky.

__________

The Man left a pile of white material on the kitchen counter last week.

"What's that?" I asked, lifting it up and examining it. I couldn't figure out where it had come from. I'd never seen fabric like that before, very whispy and lightweight and translucent, full of fiber-y looking things.

"I thought you'd like it for a ghost," he said. "It was wrapped around the apple tree." 

What a resourceful fellow he is. It made a perfect booky ghost.

One of the few mini pumpkins on my front steps.

I had lots more but I let Little Man pick one out to take home and he took several with him. 

__________

He was heading home one afternoon with his Daddy after a long day of playing and snacking and reading and snacking and napping and snacking. His dad was trying to get him out the door. Instead Little Man marched over to the snack cabinet and pulled out the brand new package of Oreos. 

"Home," he said and walked out the back door.

I think I see a pattern emerging.