Perfectly at home in the dark, Spy had no trouble running up to strange doors and asking for candy.

Like most children across the land, Spy and Q came home with a haul and promptly dumped to count the candy like misers. Trades were made, lines were drawn, and finally, the stash went into separate bowls.

Our doorbell rang.

“Wow,” said a little witch. “You have a lot of candy.”

“Here, I have more. Take as much as you want,” said Spy, lifting his big brother’s bowl of candy and carrying it to the door.

Q let out a howl of protest.

The little stinker was stopped in his tracks, donning that charming Spy grin.

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No. Actually he doesn’t.

But he’s always asking to play ‘weed’.

Weed = Wii

But it sure sounds funny.

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The Spy and Q spend most of their free time building and playing with Lego. The other weekend, they built a little Wall-e. And then they went nuts. At peak, 20 robots were counted. An entire army. There were Wall-e transport vehicles, boats, planes… an entire compound.

Meet their leader:

The compound came complete with a night club including a hot tub, a bar (drinks & food), and a dance floor with flashing lights. You know, so the robots can relax after their missions. (Which begs the question: How do my children know about night clubs?)

Where did the flashing light come from? It turns out they pulled apart one of those bouncy balls with a pressure activated light in the middle. Q discovered that the light could be activated by completing the circuit using Spy’s tongue.  Q doesn’t care for the mild shock involved, but Spy doesn’t seem to mind.

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Spy insisted I not disturb them when I tucked him in last night.

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Flashback Friday:

Spy has always had an interesting take on words and phrases….

Once upon a time, we ate dinner at Red Robin. I asked my then four-year-old Spy what he would like for dinner. Spy pointed to a photo on the kid’s menu. Simple enough.

The waitress arrived and I ordered his request – grilled cheese.

Spy screamed indignantly, “No!!!” We all stared at him in confusion as he turned bright red. “I’m a boy! I want a boy cheese sandwich, not a girl cheese sandwich.

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