Halloween is my least-favorite "celebratory" holiday -- the gruesome and scary costumes and decorations, the candy that lasts forever, the going out after dinner (😉). Let's face it, it's not made for introverts.
We keep things low-key at our house: we carve a pumpkin (often a cat), come up with a simple costume for Sarah, and head to town for the parade and trick-or-treating.
This year, Sarah decided to be a football player. Her costume was her Vikings jersey, black face paint under her eyes, and a football -- fine by me. I picked up a half-priced jack-o-lantern dress for Abby at Petsmart that day (not that she went trick-or-treating; she stayed home and worried about the sirens from the parade).
It was supposed to rain all evening, but it turned out to be more of a mist, and the temps were in the 60s -- it was downright balmy. Don had a meeting, so I took Sarah to town and attempted to keep track of her. I did pretty well for about half an hour, then she and Isabelle took off at a run to hit as many houses as they could, and they gave me the slip.
We had arranged ahead of time to meet at the library at 7:30, so I hung out there, chatting with other parents and Sarah's teacher and feeling awkward. True to her word, Sarah appeared at 7:25 and said they had ventured up Village Hill to trick-or-treat. Her bag, which also held her football, was stuffed.
When we got home, she was eager to count up her haul. She was very proud to have taken in 177 pieces of candy. I was not so thrilled. We still need to negotiate an inventory-reduction program. All of it must be gone by December, when Christmas sweets kick in (the battle never ends).
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