Last weekend we had our second annual Halloween party. No joke, ever since his inaugural party, Jacob’s been planning the next one. We’ve created a monster! He tells me he loves planning parties. He loves setting-up the upstairs as a Nerf gun zombie apocalypse course. He loves filling the giant horse trough for apple bobbing. He loves the idea of making little bowls with edible tombstones so you can decorate your own piece of cake. And he loves that I’m making Texas Chainsaw Massacre Sheet Cake. What ten-year-old wouldn’t love an excuse for a night of unlimited prizes, music, cotton candy, Nerf bullets, chips, cake, and helium balloons?
As we’re finishing up the preparations and ready to head back down to Damon Garcia for our second round of soccer, Nate finally appears from the downstairs bathroom in the barn. His version of helping set-up is to sit on the floor and play with the bathroom scale for an hour.
“Mom, mom. I’m 628 ibs! 628 ibs.”