Bones

I think the husband and I are realizing our mortality through our Halloween decorations.  This year, I haven't gotten into the Halloween spirit as obsessively as I typically do. The decoration bins were dragged out by the husband in early October -- weeks after I typically would have done it. Once he started placing things willy-nilly around the house, I was forced to step in and do it the right way (my way).

As I sit here pondering birthday presents and potential parties, I realize I'm surrounded by death. Gone are the mostly happy, smiling pumpkins and ghosts; they've been replaced by skulls. Lots of skulls. It seems in almost 9 years of marriage, the husband has slowly, but steadily, ossified the tone of the Amanda Fall Festival. (I am not going to dwell too much on how this might be his interpretation of life after marriage.)

Just look at this - a five-second tour around my condo:

My husband's beloved glow-in-the-dark skull he got as a kid from Disney World's "Pirates of the Caribbean" ride (the original one!) way back when. He added the blue candle he got from my grandmother about 4 years ago. I believe this guy would be one of the first thing he'd grab in a house fire -- I might come in a close second or third.

This is a Dollar Store find that has somehow managed to stay out year-round last year. It lived in the garden until I noticed it and put it back in the Halloween bin.

His newest obsession: glowing things. This year, we've been to far too many different stores looking for the "right" glowing decoration to add to the arsenal. So far the $2.50 lights at Target have made him happy. There are two strands of glowing skulls in my house now. I'll update ya'll if more appear.

Every guest bath needs a little bit of morbid, right? There are two of these in there now.

I admit I bought this cute little pirate skeleton dish off Etsy because I adore it. I think once you add in a little bit of pirate, the skeleton becomes a little more loveable and a little less harbinger of death.

I suppose I should be thankful that he's not the "bleeding body parts" kind of Halloween decorator. This time of year isn't about gore, it's about me and my birthday. And costumes, candy, and pumpkins. Oh, and of course his birthday, too.