Cozy, red footed pjs inspire a last minute costume switch.
My little boy no longer wants to ribbit, so mommy improv kicks in.
He dons a yellow fireman raincoat, boots adorned with bright red trucks,
and a plastic helmet, just too big and cracked, but it’ll do.
After weeks of asking, “You’re sure you want to be a dinosaur and a frog?”
and consistent nods in the affirmative, they change their minds at the last hour.
Big sis transforms into a pretty ballerina in a brightly colored, bejeweled costume borrowed from friend.
She is easily satisfied, although she needs convincing to wear tights and long sleeve shirt.
It is October after all.
We head out to fill their bags to the brim with sugary confections to rot their teeth
and haunt me with “Can I have more candy, mom?”for the next week or so.
Dear friends give them special candy bags and cards hiding the sweet surprise of a $5 bill.
They ooh and ahh at the decorations, delighted by pumpkins, ghouls, and orange lights.
She rushes ahead of us, confident, excited, eager to declare “Trick or Treat!”
Come on, Mom!
He agrees to the stroller for a short time, then remembers he’s too big
and plods along, deliberate and determined in his boots.
Don’t rush me, Dad.
Baby peers from Pooh’s hunny pot, incredulous, curious, confused.
He is happy to be held close, peering up occasionally at mom or Dad,excited to be carried,
grinning with delight.until exhaustion takes over and he slumbers in the stroller.
What are we doing, Mom?
Mom and Dad are mainly observers, watchmen, chauffeurs, and I like it this way.
I’ve never been much for costumes, preferring the simplicity of a witches garb on Halloween as a child.
I could do away with this ghoulish night and skip right to Christmas,
but it’s a reprieve from the darkness and the cold, plus my daughter eagerly anticipates it each year.
So, I enjoy the leisurely stroll in the cool evening air with my family
and unexpected emotion fills me at the sweet sight of my ballerina, fireman, and hunny pot.
How’d I get so lucky?
The night gets colder, and welcoming porch lights become fewer and farther between.
Exhausted and chilly, the kids finally surrender and sleepily ask to go home.
Once there, they aren’t too tired to dump out their loot and begin devouring
until we finally break up the fun and bring out the toothbrushes.
For the next week,
I’m torn between delicious memories of sorting candy collected in a handmade bag,
counting the various chocolate bars – by far the most coveted treat –
and deciding what to eat first and what to save for the grand finale,
and a mom’s concern about overindulgence, cavities, and tummy aches.
Ultimately, I mostly just let them enjoy, trying for some moderation along the way.
They’re not the only ones tempted by candy and I eat my share (or more).
Soon the smell of Halloween
– the sickeningly sweet combination of fruity, chocolatey, and gluttony –
will be gone,
only to return again come Christmas.
For a last minute switch, they turned out really well! I could skip it and go straight to Christmas, too, but I’m glad you got to enjoy a special evening with your family 🙂