It’s a little Christmas miracle that our kids all end up costumed and ready to go each Halloween. Wait. Halloween miracle.
All through October I see facebook posts and the like from friends who are sewing, and planning, and buying, and preparing for their little Halloweeners. Each time, I panic for a moment because I haven’t been planning, or prepping, or sewing, or buying. But then I calm down and think, “Eh. Halloween’s still a long way off.” Always: still a long way off.
Goldie even managed two costumes (both of them decided upon and thrown together within minutes of the events they were needed for).
True, Mike did help Abe roll a tire through paint and then across his shirt. And I did have to hot-glue on some fur. But that was pretty much it. I suppose, between the box filled with years of various kid-filled Halloween paraphernalia, and our access to grandma’s closets and attics, we do all right with a measly amount of planning.
Abe left off trick-or-treating this year. I gifted him a plastic pumpkin full of Kit-Kats and chocolate-covered pretzels, and likely would have caved and sent him off with best wishes to trick-or-treat his heart out yet again, but he seemed oddly relieved to be done with the tiresome tradition of receiving free candy from all the neighbors. (Shrug.)
The plan was for him to stay here to pass out candy while Mike and I took the younger kids trick-or-treating (sans Daisy who deemed herself old enough to head off with a group of friends trick-or-treating this year), but, at the last minute, a friend called and invited him to come over for a rousing night of ping-pong and the like.
“Are you sure you’re OK with me going?” Abe asked.
“Yah. You’re welcome to go.”
“Are you sure your aren’t going to be disappointed or anything?”
“Abe, I want you to do what will make your night the most fun. I’m happy for you to go if that’s what you’d like to do.”
“OK, I just don’t want you to be all sad like, ‘Oh, Abe will never do anything with the family like . . . stay here all by himself.’”
We both laughed when we realized what his time “with the family” would be, and off Abe went.
While Mike took our little trick-or-treaters out, I stayed to pass out candy. In years past, much to my older kids’ horror, I’ve simply left a “Please Take One” sign next to a bowl full of candy on the front porch while we all headed out trick-or-treating.
“But Mom! Kids will just come and take handfuls!” my kids would protest.
“Mom! Seriously, I know a kid at school who actually SAID that when he sees candy left on porches he just dumps the whole bowl in his bag!” they’d argue.
“Noooo,” I’d insist, “Kids wouldn’t do that. I mean . . . maybe they would, but . . . nooo, I don’t really think so.”
True our bowl was always empty when we returned home, but certainly that was only because a lot of trick-or-treaters came.
Only, when I stayed home this year, I noticed that, while we did get some trick-or-treaters, we certainly didn’t get enough to empty any candy dish of its contents. Sigh. It appears my good faith in the trick-or-treating portion of mankind was somewhat ill placed.
Ah well. Farewell little Halloween! You’ve been a good one.