I don’t have lofty expectations where Halloween is concerned. I’ve never even worn an official costume in my life. All I want for the 31st of October is pumpkins glowing on my doorstep, kids happily dressed in their costumes, making the trick or treating rounds at a few houses and handing out candy to trick or treaters.
In our case, one out of four is bad.
Jason ‘helped’ the boys carve their pumpkins on the 10th of October. Which I thought was a reasonable amount of time before Halloween. Apparently, I made the rookie Calgarian mistake of assuming that last October’s weather would be similar to this October’s weather. As in, last October the weather was balmy, so this October, my pumpkins won’t rot within seconds if I place them on my porch twenty one days before Halloween.
Except last October there wasn’t any snow. And this October. It snowed at least three times. Which means that within forty eight hours of outdoor life, the pumpkins died.
For some reason I also think kids (should) enjoy wearing costumes. And might want to wear their costumes as much as possible. Happily.
Not the case at the Johnson home.
To the Gort’s credit, he’s not prone to changing his mind about what costume he wants to wear. And, unlike some moms, I haven’t had to purchase three costumes in order to get him to wear one. However, I was not prepared for a lame argument about footwear on Halloween. His dad suggested he wear boots with his ensemble. Because it doesn’t seem like a lot of firefighters wear tennis shoes on the job. But, come to think of it, most firefighters don’t wear red and yellow plastic coats made in China either. So in retrospect, we should have dropped the shoe-fight.
And the Hen; the kid who walked around in his ‘Ba-ma’ costume several times before Halloween? Wanted nothing to do with it on actual Halloween. In the end we convinced (forced) him to wear the outfit but not the cape. Seeing as he was wearing a gray hooded sweatshirt over it along with green rainboots, I really didn’t expect anyone to know what he was supposed to be. Thus, when a boy at one of the houses said: ‘is he supposed to be Batman?’ I wanted to give him a hug.
I don’t really see the point in stopping at a lot of houses for trick or treating. I mean, the more candy you get…the more candy you have to eat. And since I can’t seem to keep my fingers out of the kids’ stashes, it’s really more troublesome for me.
Last year was the Gort’s first year trick or treating. I nearly died laughing watching my ‘shy’ child barge into people’s homes, eager to grab whatever candy was available. This year, his younger brother did the same. The kid who casts his eyes to the ground the minute a stranger even looks at him, boldly walked into homes like a bloodhound following a scent. He almost started watching television on the couch in our neighbors’ home. (The neighbors whose names we barely know).
Strangely, his boldness only extended to homes that weren’t decorated on the outside. If there were pumpkins or skeletons on the porch, he stood behind me, too scared to go to the door. An hour and twelve houses later, I was rather happy to oblige my oldest when he said: ‘okay, we can go home now.’
Our first stop on the trick or treating route had been at our neighbors’ condo. ‘Will we get a lot of trick or treaters?’ I asked her, because I’d only bought one enormous box of mini chocolate bars. ‘Oh no,’ she said, ‘hardly any. Last year I bought chocolate and I ended up eating it all, so this year I bought sour candies.’
Sour candies. That would have been a smart idea.
And, sure enough. Not a single kid stopped by our house for trick or treating. At the end of the evening, the professor and I had made a substantial dent in the box. ‘You have to take these to work on Monday,’ I insisted. Whilst helping myself to another Crunchie and Caramilk bar.
So, to summarize the evening’s festivities:
0..the number of decent pictures I got of the kids in costume
3….the number of times I threatened to never go trick or treating again (before we’d even left the house)
1…the number of people who stepped in dog poop during trick or treating
125…the number of mini chocolate bars I bought for trick or treating
0….the number of mini chocolates I handed out to trick or treaters
50…the number of mini chocolates Jason and I consumed after trick or treating was over
2…the number of un-potty-trained people who peed on the floor after their post trick or treat baths