When I learned that my younger brother and his family would be at my parents’ for the weekend, I suggested to my older daughter that she, and the rest of my kids, throw a dress-up party for the little cousins. What with Covid and all — not to mention my kids all going and getting too huge for trick-or-treating — I figured it’d be a fun way to do something fall festive-ish. Plus, it’d give my kids something to do. Social activities have been few and far between, and outsourcing the planning (and the event, thanks, Mom!) to the kids in the name of Family Togetherness seemed the sort of thing one ought not to miss out on.
My older daughter jumped at the idea and scurried around buying candy and little toys, planning the activities, and issuing invitations.
The plan was for the big kids to run the show, adults not included, and I was looking forward to an evening at home with just my husband after a full day at the bakery. But then, watching my kids dress in their costumes and waltz out the door laden with bags of food and oodles of candy, I suddenly felt left out. The sun was shining and my family was all together without me? No thanks.
When we arrived, the kids were tromping around in the woods searching for treasure.
My kids had even dangled bags of hot dogs and buns from tree branches (that they then had to retrieve themselves).
Then: supper at the fire pit!
My husband and I left soon after — it was cold and I still haven’t gotten the hang of dressing for the weather — but my dad built up the fire and the kids stayed on.
And now it’s November!
This same time, years previous: egg bagels, sour cream coffee cake, apple dumplings, chatty time, posing for candy, why I’m spacey, Greek yogurt.