Getting an early start on Halloween

My husband clapped his hand over his mouth. “I can’t take one more?”

I said nudging him in the ribs. “Incidentally, that was a good tuck and roll exit from the kid’s room.
“Hey, I saw my chance and I took it.” He grinned.

At the same time, we both reached for a Snickers sitting on top of the mound of Halloween candy covering the middle of the living room floor.

It had been about one hour, and three days worth of calories devoured. We were feeling pretty yucky.
But we still arm wrestled for the Snickers. I mean this is …. tradition.

What good is a Holiday if you can’t fall headfirst into it? What other time of the year can you send your child out to roam the streets in the dark and come home and deposit $100 worth of candy at your front door.

You beg and cajole with your children to pleaaasse share that Mars bar only to have their grubby (oh I meant chubby) little hands grab it and yell, “No, it’s mine.”

Too young to express it you know they are thinking, “Hey, you big person you weren’t out there knocking on those doors. It was me!”

Little do they know that Mom and Dad pace the hall waiting for them to finally surrender to sleep.
We sneak down the hall and tiptoe into their room, feeling around in the dark, until we find the Trick or Treat bag. We tiptoe out and run down the hall.

It always amazed me that the kids never discovered the huge dent left in the Trick or Treat bag. I think that it was the sheer pleasure of owning so much of one thing, at one time, that everything looked huge in their small eyes.

Naturally, I cannot buy chocolate and pass it out on Halloween; there would be nothing to pass out.
My daughter has caught onto this and now gives me a list of the candy she likes for us to hand out: Lemonheads, Hot Tamales, Zot (they explode in your mouth) Ring Pops (a lollipop stuck on top of a plastic ring to put on your finger) and Gummi Worms (like chewing a plastic bag).

Of course, the Halloween holiday would not be without drinking Rootbeer floats and listening to the radio while you carve out pumpkins.

You have to take the weekend tour of the pumpkin farm. Here you experience a hayride, spooky house and a play put on by the barnyard animals.

Overcome by the aroma of hot cider, you buy a soup tureen shaped like a pumpkin that you can only use twice a year and have absolutely no cabinet big enough in the kitchen to put it in.

You end up purchasing a u-pick pumpkin for about $8.75 a pound.

Waiting for darkness to arrive on the night of Halloween is not half as suspenseful as having your child pick out their costume. Within minutes of arriving at the fabric store, they are tearing through the pattern books. “That’s IT! That’s IT! They scream.” Great honey, you want to be a pirate. OK Let’s go.

“WAIT. I’ve changed my mind they cry. Four hours and a paper cut later you leave the store with yards of material you have no idea what to do with.

After a few years when you really are into the swing of making costumes and have the technique down. They tell you no way am I wearing a homemade costume.

All I need are my jeans and that $65 mask.

Let’s face it. Halloween is sugar, sugar, sugar! Let’s get the kids started now!