A cranky, hungry (nothing sounds appetizing to P, and many things don't taste good to him), tired morning (he took a nap at 11 a.m.) and afternoon led up to a late afternoon rally of energy and good spirits. For much of the afternoon, Jo Ann and I did not know if he was going to be up for trick er treating. There was a big shindig at CHLA this morning that Jo Ann and P didn't attend, simply because he wasn't up to it. Toward the end of the afternoon, his energy and spirits picked up—and so did ours. At 5:30 p.m., Pablo donned his shiny silver robot costume and his white creepers and we hit the candy scene on Armstrong Avenue at the end of the reservoir.
Jo Ann wore a witch costume. Polly wore Grady's old sheep head mask/hood thing. Grady put on his old bear suit, eventually taking the body part off and keeping the head dress. Me, I wore a Dangerbird hoodie. I was just happy to be along for the ride. We piled into my Prius and cruised one mile down the Silverlake Reservoir, parked illegally on Tesla and hit treat street for some high fructose booty. Pablo understood that we were going to hit it and quit it. We talked about our plan all week, so he'd be OK with it when today came.
The candy-heist operation went off flawlessly. Pablo waited patiently for children to vacate the front paths of houses so he could scamper up and snag a candy drop without brushing up against others. He even said 'Trick or treat' this year—something he's been far too shy to do in the past. We were out for about 30 minutes. Pablo got 26 pieces of candy (he counted the moment we got home), and retained 23 after giving Grady three items that contained peanuts (he's allergic). We love when Pablo shares, which he does freely and sweetly. It's so cool to witness.
This is the start of the holiday season, and it's a helluva relief that we were able to celebrate Halloween. It's hard for me to feel warm and fuzzy about it, because I am sort of stuck in a gritty, tough place this week. But I know that I am grateful, without a doubt. If we were in-patient at CHLA, or if P's white blood cell count was too low for him to leave the house, I know we'd be down in the mouth right now. While we were out here, I kept thinking that next year we'll be out wrecking shop, for the whole night, without regard for germs, coughing coffins and sneezing ghosts. Next year we can think back to all that stuff we lived through. I'm looking forward to the one year marker—Halloween 2009.
Here is the pictorial story of our Halloween night: