My children hit the jackpot today. The Halloween Box from Grandpa and Gram was waiting for them on our doorstep when they got home from school.
There was screaming. Shrieking. Squealing.
The girls received these large stuffed dogs in purses and 800 pieces of candy...each. The selection includes marshmallow poles, jumbo gumballs, smarties, finger lollipops, blow pops, and lollipop rings. Really, they have just ensured that my children will be cracked out for the next 6 months.
After the girls grabbed their dogs out of the box, Quinn began shouting, "ME! ME!" and snatched up the gigantic bag of playdoh fun. I mean tools and containers of play doh galore...all contained in a clear duffle bag. (Which, of course, Q has been toting around with him for a good 30 minutes now. I think he might even try to sleep with it tonight.)
The first time the girls were old enough to receive one of these boxes, I called my father and asked if he hated me. He said no, but as the boxes continue to arrive like clock work....Birthdays, Easter, a random summer box, Halloween and Christmas, I am beginning to wonder.