Halloween is theoretically a holiday for children. We know this because it is a holiday set up with a two sided power structure. Us vs. Them. Kids vs. grown ups. Pros vs. Cons. It is the only holiday that comes with built in arguments.
Can I wear this ghoulish freaky costumes with weeping wounds and dangling eyeballs?
No.
Can I arm myself to the teeth and bring 45 different types of knives, assault weapons, scythes, lasers, swords, blasters, and daggers to school for the costume parade?
No.
Can I roam the streets of this town at night, clad entirely in black knocking on strangers' doors by myself?
No.
Can I eat my weight in candy, including the disgusting year-old Werther Originals that the octogenarian neighbor fished out of the candy dish on her coffee table because she forgot to turn out the lights on the front porch and therefore wasn't expecting trick-or-treaters?
No.
So, we go around and 'round over the freaking Halloween crap. And I realize that only a child could get excited about this stupid holiday. But, no.
I've seen grown adults with glow in the dark skeleton earrings. Not small ones, either. Giant, shoulder-grazing skeleton earrings.
Patchwork sweatshirts. My Christmas favorite, theme clothing, also seems to have a significant Halloween constituency. Black gingham cats on purple t-shirts. Embroidered witches with witticisms like, "just wait 'til I get my broom!" Knitted sweaters with pockets. Flashing necklaces.
This doesn't even begin to cover the issue of adult costumes. Which I refuse to address because of my denial.
But the thing is, last night I got 3 trick-or-treaters. THREE! So, if this is a holiday for kids, and their grown ups are equally enthusiastic, where the hell were all the kids? Next year, I am going to tell my boys that trick or treat has been canceled, and I'll give them the giant bag of candy I usually buy for trick-or-treaters, we'll watch TV, hang a black sheet over the door so no one knows we're home, and just be done with the whole damn thing.
Argument over. Thankfully, so is the holiday. And I don't have to worry about it again until the costume catalogs come in the mail next August.
This plan does nothing to relieve me of a giant bag of candy that is specifically not permitted on the cardboard diet. Milk Duds, anyone?
