I overheard the girls "playing" trick or treat in the playroom this morning (it has supplanted the previous "Meals on Wheels" game they enjoyed when we first began making deliveries.
I heard the knock on the door. Then Elliot's little voice, full of false timidity, asked "who's there?"
Then in unison, they sang the following song loudly before dissolving into giggles:
Trick or Treat
Smell my feet
Give me something good to eat.
I popped my head in at that point. "Very funny girls, but don't say that at anyone's real door. It's not polite. It sounds greedy." I stopped myself in my prim rant, thinking I'd better lighten up a little. It is a holiday solely based on costumes and candy, after all.
"But mo-om," Maya protested, "Dad told us to. He taught us!"
Ah, the immortal influences of dad... and Bart Simpson.
Gems worth Re-Reading
About Growing Baby Doing Good Together Elliot Rose Family Rituals Fie Flora and Fauna For the Love of Learning Greenish In My Opinion Just for Laughs Just for Me Making Tinkles Maya Mindfulness Mmm... So Tastey NaNoWriMo News of the Day Noveling Photo Friday Sewing Sisterly Love Sweet Dreams The Chicken Ladies the end Tonsils We like to Move It Move It Wonderment