Halloween is my favorite time of year. Halloween is my favorite time of year. Halloween is my favorite time of year.
I figure if I type that enough, I will somehow manage to to erase from my memory the fact that I woke up this morning feeling as though I’d been hit by a freight train.
Some of my best childhood memories are from Halloween eve, dressing up and literally RUNNING from door to door because I wanted to make sure to get the absolute most candy anyone could possibly get in the 2 short hours trick or treating lasts. We’re talking full on SPRINTING from one house to the next. And these houses were not close together. Every year that I was allowed to trick or treat without parental supervision- I ran- I never even got out of breath- the candy was that exciting (or I was that young and cracked out on sugar that I didn’t notice nearly dying)… and then trick or treating abruptly came to a halt along with all the magical candy and I had to settle for staying at home and passing it out (which usually turned into hiding behind bushes and scaring the ever-living fuck out of little kids.)
I’ve said it before (I don’t even know HOW many times, but I’m sure it’s an obnoxiously large amount) and I’ll say it again- one of the perks of being a parent is getting to live out your childhood again through theirs.
Can’t go Trick-or-Treating without alarming the police or getting doors slammed in your face for the 5 o’clock shadow (that’s NOT face paint) you’re sporting? Once you pop out a kid you get ALL of that back- and hell, the first few years- the candy is mostly YOURS. I’m on Halloween numero 6 with Holden, and I’m still Mommy-taxing the shit out of his haul and he doesn’t care one bit as long as I’m giving him some in the process. VICTORIOUS! I AM A KID AGAIN!
Only I’m not. I’m not a kid again at ALL. And not just because eating all of this candy is horribly unhealthy and and my metabolism… well, let’s just say I can’t eat 25 pieces of candy in a row and not see the effect afterward.
Rushing from house to house to house just ain’t the same as it used to be.
|ballin’… or lazy?|
Previous years we would go to my Dad’s neighborhood on Halloween because I used to live there and we know the route and know that it’s safe- and with one, and then two tiny kids to cart around- it made sense to stay somewhere we were familiar with. We’d walk in a big group, us ALWAYS being the slowest (because little legs just do not move as quickly as the brains would like them to go), taking it all in. The happiness in the air, the cute and sometimes hilarious costumes; narrowing eyes at the girls who needed to cover their asses; the compliments- MAN the compliments are awesome; and duh, the candy. Lots and lots of delicious candy. Every year there would be one family in a golf cart making rounds in the neighborhood and every year we’d always think “What the flying fuck? That is SO LAZY!”- and yes, they were all capable of walking on their own. My brother always refused to come to my Dad’s for our annual ToT walk- “I’m just going to take Preston to a few houses and call it a night”– WHAT?? This is HALLOWEEN! I just couldn’t comprehend crapping out like that.
Sure- we’d all be tired at the end of the night, but the slow (read: old person) pace never kicked our asses too badly.
This year was a different year. With Holden in school- driving 20 minutes to my Dad’s and then 20 minutes back while trying to find something to eat in the process didn’t really seem like the wisest of ideas. We were on our own, in our own neighborhood (that literally took me 2 weeks to learn how to get OUT of. Not kidding).
This year it was cold, and I mean REALLY cold. Like so cold my nose was running kind of cold and I had no tissue and my face was painted so the paint started to run and look like booger trails on my face kind of cold. This year the kids were FAST, and when you walk fast in that kind of cold, you get even colder. The kind of cold where you’re shocked this water pouring out of your nose from being so cold isn’t freezing on your face and making boogercicles.
Wouldn’t you know it- the moment we got the absolute FURTHEST from our house that we could go- Holden decides he needs to pee. Like NOW. PEE NOW. Doing the pee-pee jig. And wouldn’t you know it his costume was not the kind that could just be pulled down in the front so that he could be taken behind a tree- ohhhhhhh no, you see, because that would require forethought on my part, and I just don’t do those kinds of things anymore. His costume (and Parker’s, since they insisted on matching) was the kind that only opened in the back and the hood had to be pulled over the front of the head and pulled all the way down the front to get out of… so we ran. Even farther. With the boogercicles- to a friend’s parent’s house in hopes (not even knowing) if they’d be home. I was pushing Holden’s giant ass in a shitty umbrella stroller, Thomas was carrying Parker… and we ran at least 2.5 blocks farther from home. 30 minutes from the end of Trick or Treating.
By the time that fiasco was done- we were done. Holden was crying about how his legs were tired (this from the kid who walked 12 hrs a day for 6 days straight at Disney without a peep)- Parker was hungry and the magical (ad not at all manipulative or evil) affect of my strategic popping of M&Ms into his mouth to convince him to keep trudging on had worn off.
Finally home, we got the kids to bed over an hour late- and then crashed on the couch, completely exhausted. I figured, I’ve got all this candy- I used to munch on it whenever I had it, so I popped some runts into my mouth and BARF. Too sugary!
What has become of me???
I love Halloween, it is my favorite time of year…. BUT… I have learned two very important things from this hectic trick or treating experience.
1. Pee BEFORE costumes.
and most importantly:
2. I need a golf cart.
I am weak pic.twitter.com/LYdRQ6EZcC
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