Where have alllllllll the trick-or-treaters gooooooonnnne...

I was singing that in my head last night as I sat reading my book, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

We live five minutes' walk from an elementary school, and even the local junior high is not far away. How many trick-or-treaters did we have last night? Sixteen. Great. Now I have to eat all the leftover candy!

Granted, there were a couple of cute ones. Like the two year old dressed as a giraffe who was already on her way to the next house by the time I got to the door. And the little four year old who, upon her dad's encouragement to say "Trick or treat," looked up at me and said very clearly, "TREAT!" And the weather was nice, and every single child who came to the door was dressed up in a fairly extensive costume.

But sixteen. Only sixteen.

Note to self: only buy two bags of candy next year.

In other news, Mike and I had a fabulous time in Drumheller. Pics are up at Picasa, and the Reptile World pictures are in a separate album for anyone with snake or lizard issues, but Mike has asked me to let you know that if you skip that album, you're missing pictures of the highlight of his trip: holding a lovely boa constrictor named Brittany. Even I have to admit, she is lovely. I petted her. No, I didn't hold her. For me, the highlight of the trip is less easy to pinpoint. If I had to pick three, they would be the Horse Thief Canyon lookout, playing with the mini-tripod, and having Mike go to bed at the same time as me. I know those are odd things to pick out, but there they are. Now it's back to the grind. Wake me when it's Christmas...