I’m back.

I have to admit that we had a wonderful trip to NC.

There was very little drama.

Which makes for a great visit but a boring blog post.

On Saturday the wives took the kids to a festivus whilst the husbands drank beer and watched sports.

(All 3 kiddos LOST IT by the end of the evening but we won’t talk about that. Or mention the fact that I was screeching I HAVE HAD IT as steam blew out my ears.)

The husbands carved pumpkins on Sunday while the wives went to a musical.

The boys decided that my bestie’s neighborhood was better for Trick or Treating than home as there aren’t any hills and the houses are close together.

More loot with less effort = WIN.

I’ve been lurking around your blogs and on Twitter this week.

I discovered that many of you don’t let your kids eat Halloween candy till they vomit or kill someone from Sugar Rage. Who knew?

Some of you actually throw the candy away after a couple of days.

(As my son would say “GASP!”)

I consider trashing candy a sacrilege (unless it’s Bit O Honeys, Mary Janes, or Necco wafers). Also, the boys keep a pretty close eye on their inventory which keeps my stealing to a minimum.

So The Toaster Oven (aka my husband if you’re new) came up with an ingenious plan to eliminate the excess loot.

We’re charging the kids for our services. They’re paying us with candy.

Here’s how it works:

Zach asks me to bring him a Capri Sun.

“That will be one Reese’s peanut butter cup or 2 fun sized Snickers, please.”

Jackson needs help with his math homework.

“That will be 1 Butterfinger mini for hints, 2 snack sized Milky Ways for a few answers, OR give me all your Reese’s peanut butter cups and you can have the calculator while I look the other way.”

You get the picture.

Sometimes negotiations ensue but they are rare. Laziness beats gluttony in my kids’ personal Deadly Sins War every time.

The lesson my kids learned this Halloween?

‘Mother’ (That’s how they refer to me now. *sad face*) is highly motivated by candy. Also, she will do *almost* anything for Reese’s peanut butter cups.

Sadly, these lessons do not apply to The Toaster Oven and his pathetic attempts to trade candy for sexual favors.

After 10 years of parenthood (aka near celibacy), you’d think he would realize THAT requires electronics (Kindle?) or jewelry.