HAPPY HALLOWE'EN

Hallowe'en was never a big deal for my family. Sure, when we were young, we'd costume up (ALWAYS home-created, never bought a costume) and go door to door scavenging for treats, but there were no days off from school, so it wasn't a "real" holiday, to me. Back then, not too many people decorated their houses either, other than a hand-carved jack-o-lantern. It just wasn't a big thing.





Something has changed ... a couple years ago, I started putting up lights, tombstones, corpses and laughing skeletons outside my home. Not one a hand-carved pumpkin, but clusters of them adorn my front and back verandahs. I even invested in a "ghostly sounds" cd and outdoor sound system so strange, eerie moans, screeches and laughs emanate from above the front door.




So what happened? My son discovered the joys of Hallowe'en. I make no excuses. I'm doing this for him. He was two and a half when he first realized the import of this day.


I remember the moment he walked up to our neighbours house, dressed in a fuzzy panda costume, lisped "twick or tweat" and was handed a bag of candy ... that was it for him. He wouldn't put that bag of candy in his treat bucket, but clutched it like a little miser all the way to the next house, when he forgot all about it at the appearance of a bag of chips. Then he figured he was set for the night and was ready to go home and devour the spoils. However, the next afternoon, I was in for a big shock when he came out of his bedroom, dressed in his costume, demanding to do it all again. It took some pretty fancy explaining to get him to understand that Hallowe'en was special and it only happened once in a long while. A year means nothing to a two year old, but I figured that he would forget about it quickly and that would be the end of it. Not so, with my son. Biweekly for the next 6 months, I would be confronted with the question "Is it Hallowe'en yet?" and several reappearances of the panda costume, now tattered and stained from much love, and about 2 - 4 - 6 inches too short in the legs and arms.


Around here, the stores don't believe in wasting a sales opportunity. July came, and with it, the appearance of Hallowe'en reminders for my son. Being three now, he was a "big boy" and had to have a "man's" costume. He chose Superman. By the end of September, I had to buy him a second one, as he had worn out the first "practicing". Walking like Superman, running like Superman (which involved motor sounds and shifting of gears???), flying like Superman and of course, singing that awful ditty that i had been crazy enough to teach him at some weak-minded point ...

Trick or treat

smell my feet

give me something good to eat!

If you don't

I don't care

I'll pull down your underwear!

(my son inadvertently sings the last line as:

"I'll pull all your underwear down!")

As a two year old, he had learned an important lesson about Hallowe'en that, as a three year old, he was not about to repeat. That Hallowe'en, he was bound and determined to collect a year's supply of chips and candy, or die in the attempt. In reality, it felt like he was trying to kill me! I couldn't run fast enough to keep up with him as he raced maniacally from door to door, red cape standing straight out behind his shoulders, victim to the jetstream. Gone was the charming "Twick or tweat". This little charmer would greet the neighbours with the baldly stated "I want candy." until I firmly suggested to him that we would be going home if I didn't start hearing manners from him. Then, my greedy little tot deigned to modify his single-minded approach to "I want candy, PLEASE.", but with such a menacing undertone that, had he been three feet taller, our good neighbours might have been moved to hand over their wallets and jewellery, as well.

On November 1st, 2006, my darling son began planning his strategy for this year. At 5:45 am, he woke me up with the siren call that no mother can ignore. "Mommy!? MOMMY!?" he whispered like an Uzi an inch from my brain. Foggily, I struggled to remember who "mommy" was, then responded to his summons. "Whazzamadda?" I mumbled blearily. "Mommy," he paused dramatically, with the air of one in possession of state secrets. "Next year, I'm going to be Batman."

He may have been 3 at the time, but he is the most single-minded kid I've ever known. Today, he is Batman. The TV Batman, not the movie one, because the costume was "cooler". He is wearing a mask for the first time and he struts around like the "real" Batman, practicing his punches and kicks, and shouting sounds like "POW!" and "WHAM!" Yup ... just like the TV show ... and last night, as I was decorating the cake we had made for his Hallowe'en party at daycare, I heard him softly singing himself to sleep with his current favorite lullaby ...

Trick or treat
smell my feet
give me something good to eat!
If you don't
I don't care
I'll pull all your underwear down!

God, I love being his mommy ...