We were all decked out as Spider-Man—raising our little one’s first Halloween to superhero levels. Imagine us: capes snapped, masks on, and hearts racing with excitement. It felt like a scene straight out of a movie, until… reality rewrote the script.
Just as we were backing out to head for the costume party, I must’ve squeezed the pedal a bit too enthusiastically. The side mirror of our car caught the driveway edge—and before we knew it, it was dangling by a couple of forlorn wires. My heart sunk. The mirror was toast. No amount of quick fixes—especially not duct tape—could save it. The vision of us arriving in San Francisco, all Spider-Men but with half a car, sounded ridiculous.
So, hesitation won—and we retreated back into the safe haven of our home.
Once inside, something clicked. We were still in costume. Why not turn this mini-disaster into a memory? We decided on a makeshift family photo—not for social media, not for fame—but for our daughter. Something she could pull out years later, laugh at, when she’s off to prom or retelling childhood tales to her own kids.
Before we could even settle into “photographer mode,” our little one let us know her priorities: hunger over glamour. She reached for a snack, I scooped her up, and as she munched away—mask askew, giggling—the perfect candid moment was captured. Spider-Man costumes. A hanging car mirror flapping uselessly. A tiny baby, unbothered, in the middle of it all—and that tiny hand shoving food into her mouth like she owned the show.
That snapshot? It’s not just a photo. It’s a time capsule. It’s about costumes, mishaps, laughter, love, and the unscripted joy of parenting.
The evening? It might not have ended at that costume party—but it ended in something better: a memory glued into our hearts. A Halloween weekend that turned into something far more meaningful than any party could promise.