Yep, he managed to get me to drive him to the garden center and pick up a few last minute pumpkins.
And it turned into a shoot out at a bank. He wanted to find little white satchet bags and write giant black $$’s on them, but didn’t find them. And luckily for me, he didn’t find a bolt of white canvas either.
The comments from our trick or treaters? Awesome. They loved them all.
This is our gangster pumpkin. You can tell by the bad skin and bad teeth. Oh, and the weapon might be a clue as well.
Next year, I am either not giving him any pumpkins, or I am spending the months of September and October reading him fairy tales. Maybe next year instead of a massacre, we’ll have a happier, more Disney-fied theme on our front walk.