It’s Halloween! Bring an appetite
Last year, I was destined to be a Fairy Princess, if you
remember, but it was not to be. Halloween night in our house is as
crazy as anyone else’s with kids.
It’s Halloween! Bring an appetite
Last year, I was destined to be a Fairy Princess, if you remember, but it was not to be. Halloween night in our house is as crazy as anyone else’s with kids.
I have to attempt to be a good parent and cram some fast food down the kids’ throats after they finish their homework, before they leave to get even more junk food, only this time, from strangers.
Ironic, isn’t it? You spend all of their childhood years reminding them not to talk to strangers and then the worst thing imaginable happens; they not only talk to strangers, they take candy from them, too.
As they get older, they don’t want you around for this rite of passage. They want to go off with a group of friends, dressed up like the “other” Ninja Turtles. So we reluctantly, as The Husband so crudely puts it, “cut the cord” and send them on their way with a strict curfew and instructions not to eat anything before they bring it back home to you for inspection. But let’s be honest, it’s mostly so you can just pilfer the Three Musketeers bars.
You’re left at home to pause the Tivo every five minutes when the doorbell rings and you have to give candy out to some kids you’ve never met before, and who seem to get younger and younger. I once had a mother come to my door, hold out a pillow case and say “Trick or Treat.”
I was curious. I had to ask.
“Where’s your kid?”
I actually looked in the pillowcase. She opened her jacket to behold what looked like a very annoyed 2-month-old baby, dressed in a sleeper with a smiling Jack O’ Lantern on the front, and a hat shaped like a pumpkin stem perched on his head. I was so surprised, I just handed over a Reese’s peanut butter cup and prayed she wouldn’t actually attempt to feed it to the baby.
Then there are the “kids” who drove themselves to your house and have more facial hair than The Husband.
To give or not to give, that is the question. The words, Trick or Treat have meaning. It’s not just some cutesy saying. It’s extortion. Hand over the goods, and in the morning, you’ll still be able to see out your windows and your yard won’t resemble a tragic toilet paper plant explosion.
As a kid, though, to me it was like saying, “Can I have some candy, please?” I’m dating myself, I know, but in (here we go) my day, we didn’t actually pull any pranks; could be because all the neighborhood kids knew my dad was a cop. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve seen a lot of smashed pumpkins in the road the next day and a lot of egg shells littering the sidewalks, so I’m not taking any chances.
Despite all of this, I still love Halloween. The kids are cute, the air is crisp and I can have all the candy I want without having to do homework first. Or get it myself.
