Don't know if it's like this for anyone else... I'm inclined to say no, from the countless pictures I see of babies and toddlers dressed up in costumes that they probably didn't choose and being carted around in strollers and wagons as little trick-or-treat spectators. But yeah, Cable and Parker's first true Halloween was, um, *ahem* last year.
"Wh-wh-whaaaat?!?" you say. I know.
I just can't go crazy with holidays that my kids don't understand (exception: Christmas). When they don't really know what they're missing, you don't really lose sleep over depriving them. And if you want to know the truth, it's mostly because Parent/Teacher conferences have been scheduled on Halloween for the last few years. It falls after the end of the first quarter, and it means kids have no school on Halloween, which means teachers aren't battling the Halloween Crazies all day with kids who are only at school because it's something to kill time until they can do what really matters, Trick-or-Treat. The biggest drawback is, if you're a teacher who also happens to be a parent, the past two weeks' worth of waking hours have been spent toiling away on progress reports, not getting ready for Halloween. Then you don't get home til 5:30 after almost nine straight hours of talking to parents, which (incase you're not a teacher) is waaaaay more exhausting than keeping all of their children in line and entertained for the same stretch of time. I'm just saying.
I should not leave out that, while I'm doing conferences all day, Cable and Parker spend their day off with Miss Michelle. When they were three, as she is an actual living, breathing angel on this earth, she hooked them up with some of the old costumes she had stashed away in a closet (I think there was a cow? a lamb? a fireman?) and they went to her friend's house across the street a couple times, and from the end of Michelle's driveway up to her front door, over and over, on repeat, mastering the trick-or-treat skill. We refer to this as the Great Halloween Trial Run of '06.
So like I said, last year they got to have their first real Halloween. They picked out their costumes (Parker: Black Spiderman, Cable: Wolverine) and we drove around to various friends' homes to trick-or-treat. When we made it out to Miss Michelle's and Dr. Dave's that year, she and Piper spontaneously came out with us and we walked around their block. Being in their beautiful neighborhood, Riverwood, trick-or-treating with them was an unexpected luxury, and it was just right. A great "first" Halloween.
This year, I was determined to give them the "real" Halloween experience, because They're Five Now and it was time. They chose to re-run the previous year's costumes (YE$!!!) and we went to a few people's houses around town first (including Miss Michelle's, where, thanks to her overflowing tubs of candy, they acquired 70% of their total loot for the night). Then we came back home. I really wanted them to have the experience of walking around their own neighborhood, going up to houses that are part of their turf. Sherwood Forest, while no Riverwood by any stretch of the imagination, is a pretty cool little pocket of east Memphis where you might least expect it. With its winding, hilly streets (named after Robinhood characters, naturally) and huge trees, and the little cottage-like brick houses along the way, I find it rather charming, very comfortable. Perfect for trotting along in the leaves toting a pumpkin bucket on Halloween night.
We put Oscar on his leash and walked around our surrounding streets, stopping at the houses who a) clearly had children living in them or b) had young-at-heart older persons living in them or c) had trash so appealing Oscar couldn't resist stopping to investigate. And can I just say that there were not many trick-or-treat-able houses. And it wasn't just Sherwood Forest. I heard several people comment that they'd had surprisingly few trick-or-treaters this year. I'm mentally composing a separate post on Halloween as an Endangered Holiday, but I'll leave it at that for now.
Lest we forget which side of the tracks we're on, our last stop completed the evening as we came upon a big old Cadillac parked on the side of the road, bass booming, with two pimp-esque/gangsta gentlemen leaning up against the side, smoking cigars, and laughing. I felt the slightest cautionary twinge, for about two seconds until, spotting us coming down the street, the first guy called out, "Hey theah, Spideh-main! Yo, Wolvuhrine! Wazzzup?!? I could tell right away these were kid-friendly thugs, the best kind. He continued, "Awright, awright... look atcha! Happeh Halloween, theah, boyeeez! C'meeah... lemme give you this heeah, c'mone. Dat's a dollah fo ya, Spideh-main... you too, Wolvuhrine, theah you go, a dollah fo ya. Happeh Halloween! Dat's right. You twos be good nah, awright. Happeh Halloween!" What can I say, I love this town.
Those guys were super nice, and you can bet those dollahs were the coolest thing ever. I had to refrain from speculating on what kinds of larger bills were in that serious ROLL of cash long enough for a "What do you say, guys?" and their delighted, in unison "Thank You!" and we bid farewell to our bling-blinging, caddy driving, cigar smoking, large sums of cash-toting new friends. Cable and Parker hopped all the way back up the street to our house, formulating a spending plan for the $2.00 at Target. "Hot Wheels" and "lots of CANDEEEE" sounded like sure contenders. (More like "a Hot Wheel and a piece of candy, but what they didn't know about the economy wouldn't hurt them now).
We got home and the boys took off their masks so as to better see the dollah, and -- oh yeah -- the candy inside their pumpkin buckets. I got a laugh out of watching their Montessori sense of order play out on Halloween, as they lined up their candy in rows, sorted into types, and counted them first by ones, then by tens. I took out the things they can't have, since, while we love Dr. Mike and his fantastic pediatric dentistry, we don't want to see him again til late next year. And then it was time for the trading.
I told them of a faraway place (Morton), in a time long, long ago (1983), when every house in the entire town had their lights on for trick-or-treaters, as if participation was mandatory under your rights and privileges as a Village of Morton citizen. Uncle Ted would come back with a pillow case full of candy, sometimes TWO, and my pumpkin bucket would be overflowing, so heavy with candy that I would have to carry it from under the bottom, since the little black plastic string handle had already popped out of one side. And once our respective piles were spread out on the living room floor, tallied, and inventoried, the trading could begin.
"Ok. I'll give you two M&M's for that Reese's peanut butter cup."
"Mmm. Two M&M's and a Three Musketeers."
"Deal."
"Ok. I'll give you three Whatch-a-Macallits for all of your Skittles."
"Deal."
"Ok. What about these Starbursts? I'll give you all of my oranges, lemons and strawberries for all of your cherries."
"No way. Cherry is the best one."
"Fine."
"I'll give you half of my cherries if you throw in all your Twizzlers."
"Ummmm..."
"You don't even LIKE Twizzlers!"
"Alright. Here."
"Oh my God. Are those all quarters??? I'll give you whatever you want for all your quarters."
"Ok. I want the rest of your cherry Starbursts and all your Milk Duds. AND all your Smarties."
"Here you go."
Yep, it was a good Halloween this year. Cable and Parker gave trading a go, and made a few important deals of their own. They picked one more thing to eat, they begrudgingly brushed their teeth, and we settled down on the couch to watch The Nightmare Before Christmas until they fell asleep, in their costumes of course.
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