Slimed.

Today Z and I went to a neighbor's to borrow a cooking tool. Zack loves visiting the neighbors. He says their names the whole way to their house & then clams up when he actually sees the person. Upon our arrival he picked up the cooking tool & found a candy corn pumpkin or two to shove in his mouth. Neighbors with candy bowls are even better & I think every neighbor has a candy bowl right now. Needless to say, he was delighted. We said our thank yous & goodbyes & were off. In an effort to speed up our walk home (all 2 houses) I threw Zack up on my shoulders. His response is to say, "boing, boing." which translates into, "run mother, so I can bounce up here." I figure I was trying to speed this up anyhow, so we run. Then stop, thinking, "that candy is going to end up in my hair if I'm not careful." Again I am urged on, "boing, boing." Again, I oblige. (See how nice I am?) :) I am rewarded with a little giggle that then turns into a deep, throaty, uncontrollable laugh. Of course it makes me smile, but not a moment later I feel a drop of something sweet on my cheek. yuck. I peel him down, interrupting his laughter only to find the candy still in his mouth but long sugary spits in my hair. Lucky for me, I don't have anywhere pressing to be this afternoon, but my hair do is now going for the "candied" look. I am hoping it comes in style soon. A little crunchy, a little disheveled & not at all clean.

For the record...to hear that laugh, I'd do it again.