Trick-or-Treat

I won't deny that this wasn't my idea... although I wish I could take credit because it was truly one of the best ways to spend Halloween. My friend Tracey contacted a local retirement facility to ask about bringing in the kids in their costumes to visit the residents. So off we went, kids in costumes, to do some good old trick-or-treating. Only, when we got to the facility we realized that the extent of handing out candy consisted of a handful of residents faithfully seated at their respective tables in the dining hall who may or may not have random candy to shell out. My first response was a feeling of awkwardness. All eyes were on us as we paraded our kids around the room, table to table letting the residents shake hands, pinch cheeks and shed a tear or two as they cherished a short moment with the innocence of my sweet children. And it was then that the awkwardness turned into a sense of bittersweet sadness as I realized that we were providing them a cherished opportunity that would not be forgotten.

But true to my antics of motherhood, this trip was not without slight misadventure. It was understandable that Brendan would believe that the sole purpose of everyone seated in this large open room was to smile, coddle and adore him and then gladly hand him candy. However, in a room of 50 residents or more, there were only a select few who actually had anything to give. It took a few tries to remind Brendan that instead of greeting with "trick-or-treat" it would be better to just say "Happy Halloween" so as not to make them feel as if they were required to hand over whatever they could find. But as Joe praised him for his renewed sense of extroversion, he slipped and tossed out a "trick-or-treat" to a kindly woman who had nothing but the dinner on her plate. In a matter of seconds she reached out her grilled cheese sandwich and Brendan gladly took a big bite. My 3-year-old food critic who denies almost everything his MOTHER puts on his plate, gladly took a mystery bite from a lady he's never met. It was when we got home and Joe stated "all I could think was 'I hope her medication wasn't in that sandwich'" that I was glad the debacle hadn't unfolded in front of me. Motherhood at it's best...