Confession time: I am a Halloween Grinch

Yes, I admit it. I am a veritable Ebeneezer Scrooge of Halloween time. 

You know when you are growing up and you swear you will never inflict the horrible persecutions your parents inflicted on you growing up? Well, not properly getting into the spirit of Halloween was what I swore never to do.   HA!

For Ruth’s first Halloween, she was one month old. I dressed her in a little Halloween themed outfit that my sister bought for her and went to my aunt and uncle’s house to join in their neighborhood Halloween block party. Ruth pooped all over her cute outfit the minute we arrived and got so fussy we had to leave soon thereafter.
Not to be deterred, I took Ruth and two week old Rose out treat or treating the next year. Ruth donned her adorable pumpkin costume (the cheapest one I could find at Pottery Barn), I put Rose in Ruth’s old Halloween outfit from last year (underneath some bundles because it was cold) and we doggedly tried to go trick or treating. Ruth was one, so she was finished by the time we got to the end of the driveway. 

   
The next year, I was pregnant with our third child, and budgeting was on the forefront of my mind. That was when the seed of my Halloween grinchiness began. I bought Ruth and Rose the cheapest costumes I could from Costco, and we took them trick or treating. Walking to the house next door might as well have been 40 years across the desert with a 2 year old and 1 year old in tow, but we did make it. Ruth very much enjoyed her post two pieces of candy sugar high, and they did look cute in their costumes. 

   
Ruth only wore hers because I told her it was a Minnie Mouse costume. My sisters were appalled at my deception, and sided with Ruth on the goofiness of the cheap mouse costume with irrelevant questions like, “why does the mouse have a beer gut?” Et tu, Brute? 

I won’t continue to put you to sleep with the litany of Bass Halloweens. You get the idea.  But I will outline the reasons I have become a Halloween grinch in my old age.

1. Reason 1: The kids’ costumes are so damn expensive. I mean, really! They are in all likelihood going to wear the thing once! For a few hours! And for that reason, all of the reasonable and cute secondhand costumes are harder to come by than Taylor Swift tickets.   

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You can buy the above costume for the low low price of $89! That better be real magic coming out of the wand and those wings better actually fly. That’s all I have to say.

2. The women’s costumes were clearly designed by 15 year old boys. 

 

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Look kids! Mom is a truck stop stripper beloved character from classic children’s literature!  Remember girls, when you grow up, Halloween is all about shedding all womanly dignity and debasing yourself as much as possible. But have fun with it! 

3. All the candy. I mean, I love candy as much as the next person, but the candy aftermath of our Halloweens is just gross.  There is no way we can possibly eat that much candy, so it just ends up being tossed.  So wasteful. (Although I have heard something about donating candy to our troops? Does anyone know about this? And more importantly, do the troops even like it?)

4. Our doorbell being rung all night long. Since our neighbors across the street build a pretty popular “haunted house” every year, teenagers with pillow cases will seriously still be ringing our door bell at 10:30 at night, waking up our kids that we put to bed at 8 over and over again. They don’t care that all of our lights are out, and they won’t pay attention to our little sign. It is exasperating.

So yes, I am a Halloween grinch.  Guilty as charged. But I DO love autumn. October weather in Atlanta is sublime. And pumpkin picking with the babes is so much fun. I love the gorgeous leaves, pumpkin spice everything, hay rides, corn mazes, candy apples, the whole nine yards. So I am not a total lost cause. But you will find me on All Saints Day a much relieved Sylvia.