The kids are tired, the air is cold, and we’re way too far away from our starting point.
When it comes to agreeable attire, they don’t get much cooler than my non-verbal son.
The turkey is gobbled and the pumpkins are mulch. You’re allowed to decorate. It’s OK now.
My pockets overflow with Hershey wrappers. They tumble out along the floor like product placement in a Hansel and Gretel movie.
Just because someone doesn’t like birthday cake doesn’t mean they can’t enjoy their birthday.