Halloween (Part 3, The Main Event)

Let’s put it this way. Halloween 2009 will forever be known as the Halloween that Leo went from Trick or Treater to intruder.

Oh sure, the mood was light and festive. The air was balmy and humid—it was unseasonably warm (I wore flip flops!) and the kids thankfully, didn’t need coats. There was a light drizzle but nothing serious (though don't tell that to my frizzed out hair).

But this was not a night about my hair. This was a night about Leo and Ellie. WIth an emphasis on Leo. Because basically, Halloween is Leo’s dream. I mean, think about it. He gets to dress up in a costume (which he does nearly 364 days a year or would, if given the chance), this year he dressed as his favorite thing of All. Time. A dog. And as if all of that wasn’t enough, he gets to trick or treat, which is basically going to meet people (another one of Leo’s favorite things). And by the way he could care less about the candy (so, bonus for Erin and me!).

We tried to get Leo to say Trick or Treat, but the best we could get out of him was “How-een!” So when people answered the door, that’s what Leo said. And then he would try to hug everyone. Every last one of the candy bearers was offered up a hug (don’t worry, we discouraged it at every turn, reminding him to “shake hands” and “give five” but really, you try to keep a hugging dog down).

It was toward the end of the hour that Leo made his move. A group of young, hip-seeming, incredibly friendly people (trust me, I bet they are newly arrived from Brooklyn) answered the door (I remembered them because our neighborhood is not what I’d call “hip,” so these people stuck out to me). They were extremely appreciative of Leo’s dog suit, which made me instantly love them. And they didn't have kids but were really into the whole trick or treating thing which I just thought was sweet. Leo must have felt the love too because first Leo was on the porch and then he was going in for the hug and then he was…in their dining room.

Let’s just say by this time I was ready to be home, where the pizza was ordered, the Netflix envelope was torn open (“The Little Mermaid, a Halloween classic, right?) and Ellie discovered the art of reclining and sucker eating.


And I was told to PLEASE stop taking pictures.

And Leo modeled the basis of any good dog suit.

I normally don’t trust a man in tights, but this time, I’ll make an exception.