Today is Halloween. It is 8pm on a Friday night and I am sitting here with a glass of red wine getting ready to watch some trashy horror movie and go to bed. As relaxing as this sounds, it is also a bit depressing. I used to love Halloween. Not so much the dressing up (I was a sexy kitten 5 years in a row) but rather going out on Halloween. Throughout my husband's residency our best friends would throw a party that would make any fraternity boy jealous. We would drink until we could barely stand and it really was something that I looked forward to every year. Last year Liam was only 8 weeks old and the holiday just passed through my sleepless haze.
This year I watched the torch get passed to my three younger sisters. All left in equally scandalous outfits (a St. Paulie's Girl, a Nurse, and Marie Antoinette) off to their respective parties and I was surprised at how it made me long for those days when I would be doing the same.
Luckily I can take solace in the fact that tomorrow my head won't be feeling like it is on the verge of exploding. I won't be hunched over the toilet, and for once I will be able to remember the evening in its entirety.
Oh yea, and I have this.
Really doesn't that make anything worth it? Cutest little shark I ever saw!
Guess there is always next year.