Today's high point was in sacrament meeting, when Ting-Ting wrapped her shark and construction worker toys in a diaper and rocked them to sleep. Alyssa and I burst out laughing in the middle of what should have been a spiritually uplifting returned missionary spiel and embarrassed ourselves in front of all of the ward dowagers. We've embarrassed ourselves in front of the dowagers so often now their "hmmphs" have lost all meaning. "Hmmph! It's those incorrigible Greens again!" they probably say at our approach. Just kidding! We love the ward dowagers. Actually, I'm not even 100% sure what a dowager is. There may not be any in our ward at all. Mostly I just like saying the word "dowager." Not to mention "incorrigible."
Halloween was all right. For her first ever trick-or-treating expedition, Ting-Ting went as a penguin. She went for longer than I expected before she got tired, maybe 20 houses or so. Alyssa and I went as a flapper and a...flapper's...boy toy. Whatever you call those guys. A flappo? I don't know. Anyway, she looked pretty awesome. She even got her l'il self a flapper HAIRDO. Way to get into the spirit of the season, babycakes. Tyson would be aghast. Next year we're trying to decide whether to go as Steve and Blue from "Blue's Clues," Willy Wonka and an Oompah-Loompah, or Mary Poppins and Bert. Of course, if it were up to me, I would prefer something akin to the following:
If I could figure out the hair, that is. I also wouldn't be opposed to this next little number, assuming I had the neck strength and didn't plan on going into any china shops while wearing it:
Hee hee! Looks just like me. The pectorals, anyway.
Last week we went to Cornbelly's at Thanksgiving Point. Good times were mostly had, the high point being when they dropped a 1600-pound pumpkin on a car, apparently just because they happened to have a 1600-pound pumpkin laying around and somehow demolishing a car with it seemed like a better idea than, you know, feeding a hundred hungry orphans for six months. The low point was the "Giant Rat Maze," which consisted of about 100 feet of crawlways packed into a wooden box roughly the size of our kitchen. Probably not intended for people my size, but when has that ever stopped me from doing something ridiculous just because Becca and Laura told me to? Anyway, aside from banging my head on the ceiling about twenty times and getting seriously stuck about halfway through (insomuch that I feared the Cornbelly's emergency crew would have to dismantle the entire maze to get me out, like Homer Simpson in that water slide), it was still torture. Yay! Besides all that, there was a shack full of corn you could totally MESS IN, cannons that shot candy and coveted Chick Fil-A coupons, a lamish corn maze, and a haunted barn featuring an evil cow's butt that farted out terrifying methane demons when you pulled on its tail. Beware, beware the butt of Beelzebub's demon cow!
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