At around 4:00 yesterday afternoon, I decided to put on a Halloween face. I pulled out my Halloween prop box from under our bed, and went through my stuff. I then spent about 45 minutes trimming, gluing on, and touching up some bone-colored horns. I added blood to make it look like the horns erupted from my flesh, and to conceal the edges of the prosthetic; I let the blood run down my face in a few places. Some dark make-up under my eyes and under my cheek bones to give me a gaunt look, completed the work. The effect was pretty good for a quick job.

My 6 year old thought it was cool, my 3 year old was unsure. I talked with him and he understood that it was all make-up and pretend. “You know who I am, right?” I asked him.

“A monster,” he answered.

“I mean, who am I really?”

“My daddy.”

He got over the my weirdness within a few minutes.

My wife called Pizza Hut to order a pizza, and our 6 year old and I went to pick it up. I wanted to get out of the house in my make-up; what fun is it to get all freaked up and then just stay home? My 6 year old warned me, “Dad, I’m not sure what people are going to think when they see you. You might scare some people.”

“It’s alright,” I said, “people know it’s Halloween, so they expect to see people dressed up scary today.”

When we walked in the restaurant, the waitress made a big deal out of my look. “Whoa! I forgot it was Halloween!” she nearly shouted. Making a big deal out of it is fine. I’m used to, and expect, and want people to notice when I put on the whole freak face, but she just was a little more excited than I expected.

It seems that everyone in town orders pizza on Halloween night. There were nearly ten people waiting for their take out orders, and a couple tables of people eating in. I was the only one showing any evidence of the evening being Halloween. A couple people waiting for take out stared at me (again, I got no problem with it), and one woman asked me how I got the horns to stick on.

Later in the evening, while out trick-or-treating, I had many people comment on how real the horns and blood looked. All in all, the comments made me feel good about my Halloween make-up skills. I usually shun the spotlight, but on Halloween, when I’ve got my freak on, it’s fun to get attention.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

Our neighborhood had a Halloween party, and probably 40 people showed up. A couple families in the one cul de sac on our street organize the event each year (plus one in the Spring); they supply the hot dogs and hamburgers, and everyone else brings sides and desserts.

It’s a good way to meet the folks on our street, especially new neighbors. When I introduced myself to the new neighbors I gave my address number as well as my name. Interestingly, I seem to be the only person who does this. Everyone else describes their house, “We’re in the blue house, down there, with the white van in the driveway.”

There were around a dozen families at the gathering, with about 15-20 kids between the ages of 1 and 9 years. My 6 year old was feeling shy and didn’t want to join the other kids in play. He and my 3 year old just ran around me chasing each other. We were there about an hour before they actually made contact with the other kids, but once they did, they were fully into running around with the others.

About half the kids were in their Halloween costumes, and a few adults were, too. The funniest thing about the gathering was that the kids spent most of the time playing soccer. There were two soccer balls being kicked around the cul de sac, with kids in colorful costumes chasing them around.

The food was good. (There were some delicious baked beans that I’d have loved to get the recipe.) What little of the chat I could get into was good too, but it’s hard to really get into conversations when you have to keep a close eye on your kids in the middle of an unorganized soccer game on a paved road. The younger kids were right in the middle of the action with the older kids, and a kicked ball can really wallop a 3 year old. There were several close calls, but fortunately, no one got smacked by a ball or another running kid.

We started walking back to our house when the sun went down. My boys were excited and worked up, so it took a lot of herding to get them both into bed. But they were so tired that once they actually laid down, I think they were asleep within a minute.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

The idea of our 6 year old joining his school’s chess club came up, so we asked him what he thought. His answer was, “If they teach you how to play, yes, I’d like to join it. If they just teach you how to get better, well, I don’t know how to play.” I offered to teach him how to play and he was thrilled. The 3 year old wanted to be taught how to play, too, so we all three went to the kitchen table with a new chess set we’ve had in the closet waiting for this day.

I haven’t played chess in a very long time. A friend taught me one morning while we waited for the school bus, back in 9th grade; I beat him that afternoon on the ride home from school, much to his annoyance. For the next few years, I played only occasionally with friends or by myself. After high school, I rarely played, even by myself. I went several years without playing a single game.

About four years ago, while waiting for everyone to show up for a D&D game, one of my gamer friends challenged me to a game. He was fresh out of high school, and loved chess. When he heard I hadn’t played in a long time, he jumped at the chance to thrash a dupe. He started his game going for the 7-move win, which I don’t remember the exact moves, but I recognized the general direction he was going. I thwarted his quick victory. We went on to play for half an hour, and I beat him.

So, my two biggest chess accomplishments were the first and last games I’ve played. The time in between those two is filled with plenty of lost games.

At the kitchen table, we opened the new chess set and placed the pieces on the board. As I tried to explain all the pieces to the 6 year old, the 3 year old wanted attention. I didn’t want to shut him out of the experience, but really, he’s far from able to understand this yet. I tried to involve him and let him see and touch all the pieces, too, but he wanted more involvement. He was very disruptive to the whole process. The 6 year old was very good with the distraction, but it was driving me crazy.

We played a couple games, and I even let the 3 year old move some of my pieces and remove captured pieces. But the whole experience was not at all what I had always imagined it would be. I had been looking forward to teaching my boys how to play chess, so I’d have someone to get back into the game with. I’ve taught the 6 year old how to play checkers, and we play other games, too, but chess will be the first truly complicated game. Checkers was the first real competitive game.

I was happy with how quickly the 6 year old picked up the various rules, but he needs to learn to consider the whole board rather than just one or two pieces at a time. It’ll come with practice, and I’m anxious to play games where I don’t need to help him. The only thing is we need to find time without the 3 year old around.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

Our 3 year old will not eat a full meal at meal time; he will eat only half of what you put in front of him at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, regardless of how much you give him. It drives me crazy how much food he wastes. And then, and hour later, he claims, “I’m real hungry.” He wants a snack about every hour—sometimes it’s every half hour.

During a given day, we hear, “I’m real hungry,” about a dozen times. We fix him three mini pancakes (frozen, microwavable pancakes about two inches in diameter) and he eats one and a bite off another. We give him a small carton of yogurt and he eats half of it.

An hour later: “I’m real hungry.” We give him some grapes.

An hour later: “I’m real hungry.” We give him some crackers.

An hour later: “I’m real hungry.” We give him a banana, of which he only eats half.

An hour later, we make lunch. He eats half his sandwich and half his corn.

An hour later: “I’m real hungry.” We give him the rest of his sandwich and corn, and he eats half (a quarter of the original whole).

An hour later: “I’m real hungry.” We give him some mac & cheese, and he eats half.

An hour later: “I’m real hungry.” We give him the remaining half of his banana, of which he only eats half (a quarter of the original whole).

An hour later: “I’m real hungry.” We give him some crackers.

An hour later, we make dinner. He eats half his spaghetti and half his green beans.

He used to say, “I’m real hungry,” again, an hour later, when we’re getting him ready for bed, but we’ve nixed that little game. We’ve explained to him that he needs to get full at dinner because we won’t be eating again until breakfast. It took a couple times for him to realize we’re serious, but now he knows. He still will only eat half his dinner.

He eats his fill, or so he tells us, at each meal and each snack, but an hour later, “I’m real hungry.” Arrggh!

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com