Just a half hour til midnight and I’m sitting in front of the television with my husband watching The Real Story of Halloween on the History Channel. Tales of mischief, mayhem, and more throughout the ages.
This is the first time all day I really felt as if it was Halloween…and now it’s almost over. How is this even possible?
I got up this morning and completely forgot what day it was. I was out running errands and ran into no less than three strangely dressed people before I realized they weren’t crazy…just in costume. I’m still asking myself how I managed to make it through the entire day without my usual holiday cheer. Everyone knows I love Halloween. For years, the neighborhood children have referred to my house as the “scary” house thanks to my creative Halloween displays. But this year, I live in a different neighborhood with a different dynamic, and my heart wasn’t quite in it. My lifesize skeleton is all alone on the front porch. I didn’t even put the heads on stakes in the yard.
To make matters worse, I didn’t get a single trick or treater tonight. Not one. Not even my own children. I even went out to buy more candy. I was afraid of an angry mob of children with stakes and torches storming my sidewalk if I didn’t buy more candy to replace the candy I ate. (The same candy I bought to replace the candy I ate before that.) I’ve eaten so much candy in the past two weeks, if my blood was tested it would probably be pure chocolate.
But surely a lack of trick or treaters couldn’t be the reason for my uncharacteristic gloom on my favorite holiday…could it?
Well, for the first time in twenty one years, I had no kids at home. My offspring are in New York spending time with family. And as much as the dogs would love to eat candy, they’re not much for the costumes. Believe me…I tried.
And my husband? Getting him into a costume would be harder than dressing Indiana Jones, the Mastiff in a cowardly lion suit and taking him around the neighborhood to knock on doors. (This was my Halloween fantasy from last year that failed miserably.)
So what does a girl do when her favorite holiday falls flatter than a souffle in a thunderstorm?
She grabs a few last pieces of chocolate and a glass of red wine and parks herself in front of the TV to watch Halloween of the past. It wasn’t what I had in mind, but it beats crying in my candy bowl. And what the Hell…this just means my boycott of the Christmas stores is over.
Until the next time…I’ll be shopping for Christmas!