Because of Sandy, my yard was very wet. Because my husband and our friend spilled gas in the yard while installing the generator and had to hose it down, one spot was particularly wet. So, for the past couple days, my husband has been telling me that we can't have the backyard graveyard that we've been planning for six months, because it's a safety hazard. But Goonies never say die, right?
I went out and bought 60 pounds of kitty litter to sprinkle all over the yard. I was confident that nobody would slip in the mud. I texted my husband a few times, but I had forgotten that my phone had been incapable of receiving texts for three days, so when he didn't respond, I assumed everything was cool.
I reassembled the awesomeness in our front yard and got to work out back. Gravestones, zombies and arms coming out of the ground. I got the fog machines (yes, plural), lights and animatronics prepped in the basement. Then I go into my email and see about ten from my husband, spanning the last three hours. By the end, they are in all caps and state something along the lines of "DO NOT PUT ANYTHING IN THE BACKYARD OR I WILL MURDER YOU!" Apparently, we've been having a fight all day and I didn't realize it. Oops.
He did his best to get out of work early, and ended up coming home around 6:00. (Two little girls arrived to trick-or-treat at 5:30, when it was still light out- total bullshit. Do you live in that weird town from E.T. or something??) So, here's the deal- he was just as psyched about all those decorations as I was; he was just super concerned about people being electrocuted.
The two of us ended up blitzing the front yard and driveway for 20 minutes to get all the backyard stuff, plus the basement stuff, out there in time for the kids. We didn't get to use everything, which is a shame. But in a way, having everything out front was better, because everyone got to see it. Our original plan was to invite big kids to tour the graveyard if they were brave enough. The only concession we had to make was the "lunger zombie." He's supposed to lunge at you when you walk by (controlled by a sensor). Since half of the little ones refused to even come up the driveway, we plugged in the "try me" device where you have to step on a pad to make him jump.
::Sigh:: there's always next year. In the mean time, I took the boy out and discovered that every parent in the neighborhood drinks while trick-or-treating. We went down the left half of the street, stopped at home for the potty and a Solo cup of wine, and then did the other half. The whole time we were out, I could hear screams coming from my house. Awesome.
|Yes, he is breathing fog.|
|He moans and lights up.|