I’m not a huge fan of this holiday – it means teenagers turning up at our door wearing black bin bags and wanting money for their efforts (Halloween is NOT the same in England, trust me) – but who can resist putting their baby in a skeleton babygro?
We went to a party with some friends and Henry was supremely grumpy throughout. Probably because we’d put him in a white baby hat to complete his outfit. He hates hats: they offend his head.
Daddy had to rescue the situation in the end.
Photos by Instagram. Cheers, big ears.
First Halloween. Whenever I’m sad about the number of firsts that have been and gone already, I remember that there’s always another round the corner. I’m sat watching his little skeleton chest rise and fall in his sleep. His fingers are held just so, like he’s holding a teacup and feeling dainty about it. He has fought his arms out of the blanket three times already, so I’ve given up and am assuming he’s better at body heat than his mama. I am trying to eat my 2am cornflakes quietly so he won’t stir, and feeling so lucky I can hardly breathe.