Halloween without kids is a different kind of gig. It’s not exhausting or overwhelming, and quite frankly, not as fun. When I was a kid, we lived in a neighborhood where we could trick or treat on our own, with our handmade costumes and pillow case candy bags (though I think my mom cringed at the pillow case bags). Not to brag, but I had the best costumes, often made by my dad.
I remember the year he brought home giant toilet paper boxes and helped my friend and I turn ourselves into a pair of dice. Funny, I can’t recall which friend, but I remember the lady who gave us a full size candy bar. Steve says he remembers when he was given a full size bar, too. He saved it until the last, and by the time he got to it (which may have been Easter), it had disintegrated. In fact, as I tell this story, it seems everyone still remembers the one lady who gave out big candy.
Our girls always had great costumes too…though they were usually some kind of combo concept–ballerina cowgirl kittycat, baseball goddess, you get the idea. And now that I look back, many of them were made by my mom. We would typically have the neighborhood pre-hunt dinner here, and the moms would stay back and drink wine, while the dads took the kids out (and they may or may not have had beer to fortify them). Of course, the “sort and trade” required math, negotiation and throwing skills. One year the neighbor (the one who walks all the dogs) gave them all full size candy bars. I asked Kate about it yesterday, and she remembers it, too.
This year we’ll carve one pumpkin (not four or five) and we’ll put the light up mummy in the grass to greet the trick or treaters. And for my favorite neighborhood kids (I have five of them), I am going to be the cool lady with the big candy. For them, full size Hershey Bars and a big box of Junior Mints. And I have another batch of full size Hershey bars for their friends. I am ridiculously excited. Heh!