Here are the boys on Halloween night. We just trick or treated on our street. I was going to take them up to the city to see their grandparents, but I was too pooped. I worked too hard in the art studio that day and ran myself ragged. Oops.
The pumpkins they each carved the night before at their Grammy B's, my youngest sometimes calls her Mama B. It was a cold windy night and they would go outside and tell ghost stories, coming in giggling. They bobbed for apples, and they went in a dark room to put their hand in a bowl with cow brains, which was really spaghetti noodles. Gross, I know.
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