From the very beginning, we agreed on the importance of Holidays and candy, so the combination of those two things is basically the calendared equivalent of the Holy Grail. And y’all, no matter what people say, you’re never too old for that.

This Halloween marked the 13th anniversary of our almost-first-kiss. Yeah. Almost. We were 13, trick or treating together for the first time, walking around awkwardly shifting our clasped hands from fingers-not-entertwined to interlocking. Because that made us a real couple. At some point in the evening there was a sideways glance, and an unsure smile. He turned to me and leaned in, and I stumbled over a curb and fell to the ground. In a heap. Pride scattered around me like emotional collateral. There may have been blood… or crying. But probably not the blood and almost certainly the crying. It was an almost kiss. And so I sat on that curb, knees and ego bruised, and willed myself to dry up those tears. To not scare this cute guy with the blonde bowl cut (and seriously amazing shoes with flames on the sides!) away. And he sat down beside me, threw his arm around my neck, and asked if I would trade my tootsie rolls for his sour patch kids (because he knows how much I love them).

And so we celebrate awkward beginnings and pillowcases full of candy.

And of course we celebrate our happy little family of three. Just me, graham, and Buzz Lightyear.