- Because, you know, I really need candy around the house. Because my ass isn't quite big enough yet to show a movie on when I wear my white summer pants. (And it's not like I can stop buying Almond Joys, even though I know kids hate them and they'll all be left over. One year, those kids will wise up!)
- I HATE dressing up. I hate costume parties where I'm expected to dress up. Seriously, that kind of pressure (to be clever and/or sexy) gives me angst for weeks.
I don't think I've been to a costume party since I was pregnant with OG, seven years ago, and went to a (admittedly fun) Halloween party over t'Karla's house. The Man wore a bowling shirt and carried a bowling bag, and I wore a black catsuit with three cardboard circles on my belly and went as the ball. That is it, people; that is the extent of my Halloween creativity. I will never think to go as anything topical,, and I will never have the energy or drive to scrape together something complicated.
- That said, one of the few things I do enjoy about Halloween is getting my kids a reasonably good costume that they are excited about, and watching them parade about joyfully in them. Me not being domestic - AT ALL - I don't do the crafty hand-making thing (see previous post about NOT BEING CREATIVE), so I'm usually in the position of having to spend money on them. (I wish we had enough money so that I didn't have to notice this, but that's not a reality.)
However, I think it is annoying when kids come to my door without a costume. Now, I am very sensitive to the fact that some folks can't afford a "real" costume - hell, I'm right there with them. Though I did buy YG a "real" Ariel costume, OG's Toy Story "Jessie" costume was $9 at a resale shop. (Yeah, we're Disneyfied. You raise girls otherwise.) But - it really doesn't take much. Holes in a sheet; you're a ghost, you're gold. Powder on the face and mascara smudged under your eyes, you're a zombie. Fuck, put a black hoodie on, draw whiskers and a nose on your face and go as a cat. All you need is to try, and I'm delighted to push candy on you.
Just a couple of kids walking up to my door and staring at me? I'm not so inclined to be thrilled to give you candy. Call me old school on this. Without a costume, it's more like kid mugging.
- Sort of on this same topic, TEENAGERS WHO TRICK-OR-TREAT. I am more inclined to forgive polite ones in costume; however, you REALLY should not be out when I'm with my six-year-old and two-year-old. It does not become you. And many are not polite, and many are not in costume (see above).
- My jack-o-lanterns always rot in this town. (Seriously, it was 85 degrees here today. Those things were melted, and we just carved them Sunday night.)
- This new tradition of Halloween becoming "Slut-o-Ween" for females. Suddenly, everything is Sexy Nurse or Sexy Vampire? We saw some young girls tonight showing way too much skin. Not OK for my girls to see; not OK for them to absorb this message.
- The HORRENDOUS fit my hyperactive six-year-old always seems to find time to throw while either awaiting the joy of going out to trick-or-treat or after ingesting a pound of sugar. In our case, tonight, it was both. And the two-year-old cried for about an hour beforehand, sobbing that she was "sad because Halloween was scary." (No fears on the last one; she got the first piece of candy and it was like the holy light of heaven had shone on her face.)
But, nonetheless, I was violently on edge tonight. When OG announced that she was going to wear her Crocs instead of her boots - with her COWGIRL OUTFIT - I thought I was going to throw a rod. The Man wisely reminded me that it was not a big deal. Good thing, too, because I was about to fly off the flippin' handle by that point...over something totally silly.
The glass of cheap Merlot pounded like a shot more or less immediately after that made trick-or-treating more bearable, just. The martini my next-door-neighbor handed me afterwards was even better. (Not so sure about the wisdom of pairing it with all the Reese's, though.)
- The increase in generalized vandalhood. I keep my cats in for several days around Halloween because people are drunken idiots and will victimize cats.
Also, it was probably unrelated to the holiday, but we were robbed last Halloween. Our door was kicked in, some of the front rooms were ransacked, and some jewelry was stolen. (It was a unique experience having a cop car in your driveway in the evening just as trick-or-treating is starting. "No, no, neighbors, it's not domestic violence or a meth lab. This time.")(Again, I am the Halloween version of Scrooge. Yew get outta my yard, you yeng punks. I oughta call the cops.)
All that said, I was planning to show you pictures of the (admittedly cute) girls, because, well, you've earned it. However, Blogger is being a little bitch again. Eh; icing on the cherry cake of my day.
See you tomorrow for the beginning of NaBloPoMo! Badger's got a theme, and darn her, it's a good one. I'll work on it.