My Husband's Halloween Party

Every year, my husband's company hosts a Halloween costume party for all of its employees and their families.

My husband is always very stressed on the day of the party, and for good reason.

At last year's party, Kellen "accidentally fell" (ie intentionally jumped) into the fountain in the front lobby. And Cameron spilled red fruit punch on light beige carpet.

At yesterday's party, Cortlen refused to put on his costume and couldn't commit to being well-behaved.

"That's totally fine," I told him when we got out of the car. "You can just sit in your dad's office while everyone else has fun at the party."

"FINE WITH ME!" he screamed as he slouched his way into the lobby. "I hate Halloween."

Cortlen changed his mind about the costume and his attitude when he saw that the party served store bought cupcakes with three inches of orange icing plopped on top.

"I'm ready for my costume now," he announced with his hands on his hips.

I was in the middle of helping Cameron do a craft. "You'll have to wait a minute," I told him. "I'm busy."

Cortlen responded by stomping back to my husband's office and erasing a series of important numbers that were written on a white board.

"What's there to be unhappy about?" I asked my husband a few minutes later. "It's like there's an unwritten rule that someone has to be miserable at all times."

My husband looked mournfully at his empty white board. "Right now it's me," he cried.