Tonight was our first Halloween as a family of four, and possibly the first holiday of Mary Brooks' that I can actually remember.
She was born on Valentine's Day, which was an absolute blur, but a delightful one. I can't recall a single thing (besides what I captured on this blog) about Easter, Mother's Day or the Fourth of July; they came on the heels of MB's surgery and the shock-induced amnesia that kicked off this spring and lasted 'til fall. It's the oddest thing.
I feel like I'm getting my wits back about me - as much as I ever had them, that is - and I enjoyed trick or treating with my favorite fireman and our baby dalmatian.
Our friends invited us to join them trick or treating, and we couldn't refuse a quiet street with great company and a host of other flashlight-wielding little people carrying jack-o-lantern buckets. Such fun!
Mac was high on life (no sugar required), whooping in the street and squealing, "Happy Halloween! Let's go!"
Upon ringing each doorbell, though, he became tremendously shy, barely managing a "thank you" after getting his candy. Once his little feet hit the curb again, he morphed back into our little extrovert, giddy as, well, a three-year-old on Halloween.
Macky struggled a bit with the bulky fireman boots, but his costume was recognized everywhere we went and the reflective stripes served a purpose beyond looking extra fireman-ly. I call that a win!
Bradley had the difficult duty of holding Mary Brooks, wearing the softest hoodie of all time, as we walked down the block. Not a bad gig.
I hope y'all had a fabulous evening, too! The pics of dressed up dogs and candy crazy kids have made my night on Facebook and Instagram. Keep 'em coming!