The fruit of our labor: toilet papered living room and Christmas lights.
Castarina (knew my dance costume would someday come in handy) and Baby (in foetal position on the couch)
FREAKIEST HALLOWEEN PICTURE EVER. WHERE IS CHARMANDER(Earl)'S HEAD?! OMG?! WHY IS IT IN THE REFLECTION IN THE WINDOW BUT NOT ON HIS NECK?! OMGOMG?!
Chugging alcohol out of baby bottles. Hmhmhm sacrilegious, really.
Daddy rocks and Mummy rocks. As do baby bottles, pacifiers, and real diapers (which bulged in such a way that made us look like, um, men).
A night to remember. The hilarity of dressing up, living room and kitchen and corridors filled to the brim of insanely costumed people, running dry on alcohol eventually (when we thought we had bought way too much), dancing up College Avenue in diapers, winding down to a four-hour conversation on the sofa (of which nothing much was remembered because Mr Sombrero was in the midst of a blackout), only about five stains on the carpet to clean up the next day and a severe hangover during dance practice. Perfect.