Yesterday was our annual Trick or Treat party, diminished in scope and enjoyment by the fact that Lisa was required to work and could not attend, which was a ridiculous development.
None-the-less, we put on a decent face and went forward. We bought a ton of candy (not featured: the two $20 bags of KitKats and Reece's that someone (born in 1976) ate, depriving the youth of their spoils)
Our food included a revolting eye cake, a Frankenstein themed tray of brownies that Sawyer ate before the party, deviled eggs and a cheese and sausage tray Smiley prepared, a fruit and a veggie tray, chips and salsa, and a much smaller pot of chil than our norm.
Lisa and I paid good money (well, she did) for matching baseball costumes, and I wasn't going to wear mine out of solidarity, but she texted and asked me to put it on:
At 5, with zero guests on hand, I set out the candy and started giving it out to trick or treaters.
We continued our traditions, which included giving away pencils and other non-candy items as a voluntary option for the kids (one that was chosen far more frequently than you'd think); I gave away WE Energies cookie cookbooks to those who wanted them and had legit interest (again, very popular); we kept a stock of Halloween buckets on hand to give away to young kids who came up with only a grocery bag to trick or treat; and later in the evening we gave away shots of alcohol to parents that stopped by with their kids.
Then my friend Tre and his family showed up, and I handed over the reigns to Smiley while I went out with them while my Godson trick or treated.
It's impossible to adequately capture the volume of trick or treaters or the atmosphere of our neighborhood, so all I present to you are a few scant pictures to get a taste of it:
As for costumes, Smiley was a 70's hipster:
Junie was a twisted Cupid
LuLu was a grim reaper
And YaYa and her boyfriend were characters from Everything Everywhere, All at Once minus, to their detriment, the sausage fingers, but including the scowls.
This is Junie's friend Bella
Tre and his wife
My colleague Steven
My grandsloth
The doggos
Back to this guy: at one point, at the height o f the party, with the house full of joy, he calmly says to the room: "Hey. Matthew Perry is dead."
The party ground to a halt. Sorrow and shock settled in, and we spent half an hour commiserating and checking our phones - even Sawyer sensed the mood change and calmly tried to comfort us - while Mr. Buzzkill happily enjoyed his moment in the driver's seat. He did this once before - I have blocked out the memory of the celebrity - by matter of fact-ly telling me a beloved icon had passed.
Some people's children. SMH.
(creepy coincidence: only minutes before someone had found and asked me about a Friends statuette I have)
Anyway, aside from Mr. I Ruin Fun, it was as good a party as you can have when the hostess and driving force is absent and many RSVP's were declined.
Next year, we aim to do it right!
