On a 1961 night on 83rd Street right after Halloween, Rory & I were sent to bed at 9pm and 10pm. Mom fell asleep on the small couch, and Dad painted while he watched TV. I took one crack at sneaking back into the living room to watch more TV, but decided dealing with Dad or Mom coming out of her couch coma wasn't worth the trouble so I went to our bunk bed and listened to Bob Sheppard announce the ballplayers, and Mel Allen call the Yankee game in my head.
Rory was relentless. He returned to the living room over and over again, passing through the kitchen where there was a giant mixing bowl with the leftover Halloween candy, mostly chocolate, Mom & Rory were chocolate fiends. Mom looked over our trick & treat stash like she was Fagan and we were pickpockets on assignment. Dad was wise to Rory but lazy about picking him up and running him back in. Dad gave up if Mom was asleep. I got up to look into the living room and saw Rory settled in behind the couch with his head peeking out resting on his Crusader Rabbit stuffed animal. During a comedy, Mom woke when she heard Rory laughing behind the couch. She barked at my father, "Kick him in!" Dad got up and threw Rory over his shoulder heading back to our bedroom. Rory's butt was near Dad's nose, Dad smelled something and said back to my mother, " His ass smells like chocolate." Dad pulled the bottom of Rory's footsies down. Attached to Rory's thigh was a half-eaten Milky Way candy bar.