Since my kids are mostly grown, and my neighborhood isn’t one people go trick-or-treating in, Halloween has become a quiet affair. A day like any other except that we’re dressed oddly.
I looked something like this
minus the eyepatch, and minus the coat eventually. It was just too warm. I took the hat off during classes and one of my teachers asked if I was a Brontë sister. Hmmm…maybe an idea for next year.
My son went as Deadpool, a comic book and video game hero:
He commandeered a styrofoam head, spray painted it, and named it Headpool. The black paint melted the foam and made the eyes look scary. He loved it. He said it was his new best friend.
Those “swords,” by the way, are actually umbrellas with katana sword handles. Probably my favorite Halloween prop ever.
My sister was a cupcake.
She made the hat the night before, to look roughly like a cupcake with rainbow button “sprinkles.”
And my mom, who only wears purple. Ever. She wears black pants or jeans and maybe black shoes, but everything else is purple. Yes, e-v-e-r-y-thing. She’s known as The Purple Lady until people know her name. Halloween is more of the same:
It’s hard to see but the hat is purple, too, with a black veil. That wig was bright enough to guide a ship. The rest of her ensemble was just regular work clothes.
I spent the day absolutely exhausted. I had a 6-page paper due on how Chaucer used satire in the General Prologue of Canterbury Tales, so that had me up late. Then in the morning getting dressed up left me no time to eat or consume caffeine, which is a serious problem, so I spent the day in a perpetual state of dopeyness. Everyone in English Lit seemed to be the same way, so class was unproductive and the teacher let us go early. I finally ate a decent meal at 3pm but by then it was too late: the damage was done and there was no redemption. When I picked up Deadpool from his festivities, I had to take someone else with me to keep from dozing off while I drove.
He wasn’t going to trick-or-treat, but the family he was with said his costume couldn’t go to waste and convinced him to do it. He didn’t have a container, though, so he’d collect candy from one house, eat it, and not approach another house until he had finished what he had. The family thought he was brilliant.
One year, when he was about 9 or so, he went trick-or-treating around the neighborhood by himself while it was still light out. He got so much candy he had to come home two or three times to empty his bag. When he was done he sorted it out, put what he didn’t want into a bowl (which was a lot because he’s very picky), turned on the porch light, and passed it out to other trick-or-treaters!
In a couple years we will have a toddler to dress up and parade through the neighborhoods. I wonder what insane things their uncle is going to teach them?