I like gore and blood. Erik does not. Erik doesn't dress up for Halloween. Which means Erik doesn't get a say.
While scrolling through costume ideas online and sharing with him my favorites, most of which included copious amounts of blood, he argued against each and instead made the request for a pixie type costume with lots of "sprinkles".
This coming from the man who, when allowing me to hack away at his hair, makes the request that I cut it "like they do at the store".
Sometimes he struggles with making the words. Which is why by "sprinkles" I knew he meant glitter.
I hate glitter.
But, I agreed to something a little more feminine than what I usually go for. I decided on a mermaid. Erik was happy and I was purposely misleading.
Upon seeing my interpretation, WHICH EVEN INCLUDED GLITTER, Erik was no longer happy.
I didn't care. With Milo's devoted help, my hooked mermaid costume was complete.
And so it was I struck out on the mean streets of Salt Lake City to wreak havoc with the most adorably grumpy dwarf, a minion who can barely touch his fingers together and the resurrected Steve Jobs.
Side note here. That minion was made from scratch. As in, home depot and craft store scratch. Effing amaze-balls.
Last year, I made no such promises of sprinkles or sparkles or pixies. I told him my plans to be Little Red Riding Hood. He approved. Again, I didn't care. And again, he wasn't particularly happy with the end result.
This year? I'm attempting a Voodoo Priestess meets gypsy clown. I wanted something with lots of feathers on my head. It's not looking good for me. In trying to describe what I've created so far to a friend today, I realized it basically looks like a giant raven landed on my head to use as it's final resting place to decompose. While simultaneously molting. And it's making me feel a little stabby. Luckily, I read somewhere that baking can be very therapeutic in relieving stress.
Turns out they were right.