So I’m lying here, enjoying Charlie Brown and the Great Pumpkin and relishing the fact that I’m not out walking little kids around door to door, freezing and trying to balance a flashlight, a two grubby little hands and a wine glass. Really, I’m just happy about the missing the cold. It’s a little sad to see that my mommy Halloween packed up it’s candy bag and left years ago. (This is where I’ll thank you, Cricket, not to bring up the fact that I sometimes let your dad take you and I stayed home to man the door with my friends and cocktails!)
I don’t understand those folks who claim to hate Halloween. I can’t even begin to address those who believe it’s evil. I grew up Baptist, my mother was perfect and thought Halloween was just fine and I’m sure she got that information directly from God. I went to Christian school and I know that NOWHERE does it say “thou shalt not dress as a Power Ranger and collect candy”.
Why, in the world, would anyone not want to put on a costume? I’ve frequently been known to whip on an old prom dress or glittery majorette costume just for Friday night cocktail hour. It just makes things more fun. The other day I had on a gown with a 6 ft. train and walked several times around the kitchen and considered it a good floor cleaning.
The Goose refuses to dress up. Twice, I’ve had him in a Halloween costume. When we were first married and he still could be moved by “a look”, I made him a Jolly Green Giant costume by dying a pair of long underwear green and making him a leaf dress to wear over it. I then covered him with green paint and went with him as Sprout. We went to a party at his boss’ house. Just this weekend I was reminiscing with his boss and he had the audacity to bring up the fact that there were parts of his house with traces of green paint, on carpets and walls for years. I am assuming he was commenting on our exuberant dancing and the Goose’s “nap” on the carpet sometime in the wee hours. I wish I still had a picture of it.
Several years ago, when he had become immune to “the look”, Cricket asked him to dress up and he did, briefly, wear a pair of fairy wings while downing some beers. Fifteen minutes, tops. I DO have a picture of this, but am not allowed to post it lest the Goose’s business associates realize he has a fun side and a family.
When the kids were little, we would become so overcome in the costume isle that I couldn’t say no and we would go home with a 2nd mortgage’s worth of costumes that required a change every hour. As Shep wore his for some part of everyday for two years, I felt I got my money’s worth. The child wore a batman cape and frog boots for two solid years, ever day. Everywhere. The costumes, the pumpkin candy holders, the nip in the air, neighbors, wine. I loved Halloween with little kids. I loved Halloween as a child. I really liked it as a teenager (except for the two month’s worth of trouble I was in afterwards…sorry, Mom and sorry to my date for all the throw up in his car. I mean, really, you make a drink that tastes like peppermint schnapps and expect kids to know when to say when? Seems like some kind of conspiracy to me!)
You know what else is great about Halloween? Parties. Parties where everyone dresses up, there’s lots of good stuff to eat and drink and, best of all, NO GIFTS! There is absolutely no stress about what to take and give. No wrapping, shopping, guessing if what you’ve brought is adequate. I love that. You just throw back a shot or two, put on a wig and, voila, good times. My love, the Trophy Wife and her husband, Big Poppy have a party that beats all others. In years past I have misbehaved to the extent that my children and husband have chastised me greatly for weeks. This year, I was SO good that I remember all parts of it and it was fantastic.
Wrapping up, Halloween is good and bad. On the surface, it’s fun, but it’s the sneaky little holiday that makes us think the oncoming winter is going to be okay. By Black Friday, most of us realize we’ve been duped and are already longing for spring. So it’s a good thing to give this scary night it’s homage. Now, it’s November, though, and I can’t help but think of the ugly woman with her make-up off on the morning after. Things just look bleak and scary with just the cold and the talk of the election. Ugh! Somebody hand me a fluffy dress, quick!
and a possum in the dishwasher 