This is my beau-hunk. This is my petit homme. It’s the day after Halloweener can’t you tell? Orange sheets, black T-shirt, a few gray hairs sprouting in Pierre from all the fright. And then there’s that spatula to explain.

Tel père tel fils
Tel père tel fils

 
Max & his little spatula are 2-gether 4-ever. They haven’t left eachother’s company in a good 2 months. He sleeps with it, he eats w/ it, he takes it on walks. While visiting, my mom voiced her concern that he may trip and bludgeon himself on it. I earnestly replied, “Me too, but I’m not taking it. If you want to take it from him be my guest - just agree to buy everyone hearing aids & replace all the glass in our windows before you do.”

Max and his lovey the spatula. We tried once, to take it and the earth trembled. The shrill of his baby-soprano backed by a quaking uvula. His eyes, nose, and mouth disappearing into a crumpling face: a real massacre of all good aural faculties…

That’s Max when you pry his septor from those little baby hands.
Happy post-Halloween! Alka-seltzer anyone?

 

“The most magical day of the year”
“The most magical day of the year”

 
Samhainophobia is the intense and persistent fear of Halloween. Also on the menu is Phasmophobia (fear of ghosts), and Coimetrophobia (fear of cemeteries). No, no, no. They got it all wrong. Halloween = the best celebration of the year! And sad but true, as pal Ian once said, “Halloween is the only time that guys can dress how they want and not get beat up”.
 
Last year for Halloween, Pierre & I dressed up in our pajamas and went to bed. In fact, we’ve passed out in bed for all holidays since Max and Manu joined us on the planet. That is until last night. Halloweener!

Beastial Brothers in Arms
Beastial Brothers in Arms

Our Frenchy friend Daniel is visiting while on business and Pierre is introducing him to a couple excellent wines before we head out into the night. It only takes one sip for me to realize, “Where are your freakin’ costumes doodaroos!?” I dig through my box of costumes, pull out hats from past fashion shows and turn Pierre into a rabbit while Daniel becomes a wily fox.

How to make a baby giraffe…
How to make a baby giraffe…

As for Max & Manu, they’ve been living in their costumes for 3 days now. They hate me, I can see it across Max’s face as I strap the 5-pound tiger mask onto his head. I see the eye-roll of Manu as I squoosh her feet into the nubs that are her giraffe hoof. I dont care, their cuteness overrides any long lasting trauma they might incur. I plop them in their Radio Flyer wagon and off…

we go to Florence Street where our friends Patrick & Brigitte live. They’re the artist celebrities of Sebastopol and you will find their amazing sculptures throughout Sonoma County in many a yard and business.

2-story tall Dino-rama!
2-story tall Dino-rama!

Everyone congregates on their street and when we arrive, it’s already shut down by zombies, pirates & witches. We find Patrick sitting on his front stoop slumped in posture, head-to-toe in black bunny fur & glowing buck teeth. “We hand out 3000 candies every year” he says, “then go inside and turn off our lights so people stop coming.” I laugh. Daniel is taking 1000 pictures muttering, “I cant believe how cool Halloween is in America. We have nothing like this!”

We trick-or-treat the decked-out houses until our wagon is filled with enough sugar to rot Max & Manu’s teeth to the jaw. We’re heading back home, thinking the night is dying down…

A Nightmare on Florence Street
A Nightmare on Florence Street

 
… but omg, it’s all just beginning! I’ve bought 100 pieces of candy. 100 pieces? Gone in 15 minutes. I run to the store. 200 more candies gone. I run again to that shitty store — the one that only sells Baby Ruth and Chubby Hubbies! And again it disappears into bags already heaving with candy. This is so fun - because it’s insane with families of creatures swarming the street and god I wish it was like this every day.

“I can binge if I want to”

Max and Manu have the VIP seats and see it all perched in the threshold of the front door. I stand behind them dropping candy while playing old-school… “Soooo, you are what? A Power Ranger?” “Nooo! I’m a Transformer!” the kid says with an “Are you stupid” affectation.
To a pubescent girl I squeak,”Omg, like I LOVE Brittany Spears”. She spins around, flipping her fake hair at me like the middle finger and lets me know, “Brittany’s old. I’m Hanna Montana, dont you know?”

“Well, no I dont. Thats why I asked.” No one laughs at my jokes that I KNOW are funny. But, with the last piece of candy dolled out, we slide Max and Manu’s chairs back into our warm maison. We put out the lights to ward off the last dregs of candy-ferreters, and my family + Daniel all go down for a long snooze under a full moon.

So yes, there are words to describe one’s fears of Halloween, but what about words that illustrate one’s euphoria while experiencing Halloween…? Huh?