Candy Day

The kids are glazed over in the TV room, watching movies and methodically ripping open packs of candy and shoveling the contents into their little, sticky, filthy mouths. There is a smear of chocolate on Lucy's eyelid from rubbing her sleepy eyes between bites. I am lying on the sofa in the living room, with a pile of candy wrappers and empty Nerd boxes on the floor next to me.
And a bottle of water. And a dispenser box full of Alka Seltzer tablets.
Because my Halloween also involved Patron, fried rice and Jack in the Box.

We are in the home stretch - this Halloween is almost over. Just as soon as I finish washing costumes, and eating 3 buckets of candy. We have 10 hours left of "Candy Day". Tick Tock Tick Tock.

Candy Day is the 24 hours following a holiday, wherein the children are allowed to eat as much candy as they want between balanced meals. By 11am Max was "taking a break" - which is exactly why Candy Day works so well. Instead of having a bag of the less desirable candy (in our house that would be Jolly Ranchers and candy corn) melting on top of my fridge for 2 months, being doled out one piece at a time every day until January, we get it all done in one terrible, awful, nausea-inducing day. Tonight after dinner, the kids will change into pajamas and solemnly dump all of the remaining candy in the trash. Then - and only then - the holiday will truly be over.

While the fishnets and hotpants are in the washer on "delicate" and the alka seltzer is fizzing, I can survey the wreckage for a minute.

Over in that corner, is a pile of clean clothes.
And over there, is a moving box filled with costumes.
The kitchen counter is littered with makeup, silver hair spray, rejected candy (Laffy Taffy, mostly) and plastic spider rings.
There is a huge pile of baby gear waiting to be put in the attic, because I have the week off from nanny-ing.

But first I have a stack of Almond Joys that need my attention. And I think I need to take another shower, my left arm still kind of smells like tequila.