Part of me -- my especially immature side -- wanted to answer the door tonight wearing my hockey gear, just to give the neighborhood moms something to chew on. "This dude lives among us."
Then a mom came to my door wearing a tiny shirt that exposed her pregnant belly that was painted white like a ghost complete with eyes and smile painted on and (presumably) fake legs dangling from her tummy. I'm writing this while hiding in the upstairs closet.
Before retreating from candy duty, I'm disappointed to report there were no slutty Lady Gaga costumes tonight or hockey players--not even a Jason with a hockey mask or athletes of any kind. I had one R2D2, one helmet-less Darth Vader and a three-foot-tall Decepticon. And one Iron Man, sadly missing the best part -Gwyneth Paltrow.