Halloween Revisted

Leigh Ann and I had an e-mail conversation the other day about the ins and outs of Halloween. Somewhere during that discussion the topic of costumes came up (yeah, I know, shocker ;-D ). I told her I don't mind Halloween, but I really, really, really dislike gory costumes. Really. She asked why and I sent her a link to a post I wrote way, way, way back in October 2007. I thought I would revisit that post here too for some of my newer readers.

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Ah, October. It's the month in which the landscape changes from tired green to brilliant orange, red and gold. It's the month in which standing over a hot stove becomes bearable again, and the urge to bake homemade breads and cookies comes back. Unfortunately, October is also the month that gives me the creeps.

Yes, you read that right. I dislike October. More specifically, I really, really, really dislike Halloween and all the gory decorations that come with it. Frankly, I can't wait until the month is over.

The fact that you'll see me display cutesy Halloween decor here and there in my house, and will host small kid-friendly parties complete with scary movies like Winnie the Pooh's "Heffalump Halloween," should tip you off that my dislike for the day has nothing to do with religious convictions. It does, however, have everything to do with the fact that some id*ot scared the cr*p out of me when I went trick-or-treating with my friends as a young girl.

Let me take you back to Halloween 197__. (The blank is there because I honestly can't remember how old I was. I only know that I was in grade school at the time.) It was a balmy October evening in Hawaii. I was dressed in the butterfly costume my mom lovingly made for me, and had been looking forward to wearing her creation. I was also excited because the sister of one of my friends was old enough to take us, so we were able to go around the neighborhood without our parents.

The night started out better than I had hoped. Most of the homeowners were handing out good stuff like M&Ms and other morsels of chocolate goodness. Because of that, I didn't mind getting the occasional break-your-teeth-if-you-tried-to-chew-them candies that try to pass themselves off as "gum." I don't remember how long we were out, but I do remember it was getting dark when we decided to make a visit to one last house.

The house was very unassuming. It was your standard-issue house wedged between two other standard-issue houses in an overdeveloped neighborhood. As is proper "Trick-or-Treaters Welcomed" etiquette, the homeowner kept one amber light on in an effort to illuminate the front steps. The lights were also on inside the house, signaling that someone was indeed home.

My friends and I walked to the front door and rang the doorbell. While waiting patiently for the homeowner to come to the door, we heard some movement coming from inside the house. We waited eagerly for the candies that would top off the bag of junk food loot we were already carrying.

I should have been suspicious when the door started opening slowly, but in all my eagerness I straightened up, put on my best smile and started saying "Trick or Treat." But before I could finish the phrase, I was cut off by the loudest "BOO" I had ever heard, and saw jumping out before me a werewolf. (OK, it was a man dressed in a werewolf costume. But to a grade school kid who isn't fond of surprises, it's the same thing.)

I really don't remember much after that. I think I screamed at the top of my lungs and ran away. I don't remember if my friends hung around to get their candy. I don't remember if the guy apologized. What I do remember is that I have disliked Halloween ever since and have never again gone trick or treating. I even willingly started to stay at home with my parents on Halloween night to distribute candy -- without tricks -- to those who came to our door.

Since that night, I have had a real dislike for gory costumes and decor. I don't have a problem watching horror/suspense movies because I know they're make believe (and sometimes even downright silly). But I do have a problem with everyday people dressing up as monsters and then leaping out in front of unsuspecting victims just to see if they'll shriek.

So you're probably wondering what I'm going to do now that I'm a mom. Will I let my son dress up and go trick or treating? The answer is, sure, but I'll leave the trick-or-treating duties to my hubby. Just Son will also be allowed to visit only the homes of those we know. Meanwhile, I'll hand out the loot from the safety of my home. Unless, of course, a werewolf comes calling, in which case I'll probably be hiding under my bed.