It is that time of year again. . .the one holiday that gets Americans from every walk of life out and moving as a community, and they're filling huge sacks with candy. There's something strange about that. I have to admit that I turn the lights off and clear the whole family out of the house. We gave treats one year but I find the mix of happy people--some in sweet outfits, grinning as they hold open their bags, alongside the sour-faced, too-old, ghoulish, frowning out of downright disturbing masks--stressful. I do not come back until Trick or Treating is over.
I keep thinking, as I'm out on my porch collecting mail or putting away the stroller, that my neighbors are out on their porch--and then I glance over and realize that it's just the witch and the skeleton. As we sat on the swing in the sun today, Elspeth told me, "They [the witch and the skeleton] don't talk except when you're not watching."
"Maybe they're just sad they don't have any friends," I said. "Maybe they feel sad inside."
"No, Mommy," she said, "They're mean. And they don't have anything inside."
Our neighbors also seem to have buried some relatives in the front yard. Merry skipped over to their small front lawn the other day to collect wind-fall pears from among gravestones and skeletons rising out of the ground.
This is my nod to Halloween: I baked up two huge pans of extra chocolately brownies from scratch, iced them, and sprinkled them in orange and purple and black for two school parties tomorrow. They are so gooey that I'll have to spoon them out. Elspeth brought home a huge pink ghoul head filled with candy that I sorted out while she was busy eating a lollipop: the emergency car bag, the Martin-take-to-college bag (which included a white jelly mouse in a jar of clear corn syrup and three spider rings), and the very paltry left-overs, which I hid in the sauces/oils cabinet above the stove. And I may still steal the snack-size KitKat tonight when the kids are finally all in bed sleeping. I have to say I get immense satisfaction from dumping out the kids' candy and sorting through it--a childhood, post Trick-or-Treat feeling. Ah. Look at this loot. Of course most of it goes to the college students, but I take a charitable donation on our taxes for that.
In case the IRS reads blogs, I'm just kidding.
2 comments:
Does Elspeth have the tea cozy on her head or is that really a hat?
T
It's too sad that the Trick or Treat of my youth, which was basically innocent has turned into the Gorefest that it can be today.
The worst thing about the Casper the Ghost, little Witch and Spiderman costumes we wore were how hot they were to wear in Florida.
And the fact, as we found out later that some of them were not flame retardant!
Our parents didn't worry much about details like that. Hmmmm!
We haven't seen a single kid here treating since we've moved here 11 years ago.
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