I Hate Halloween

This should come as no surprise to anyone who knows me, and this is the single greatest indication of my occasional status as Grumpy Old Man.

 

I’ve never seen the point of the holiday, such as it is: to dress up in some costume for the purpose of shaking down neighbors who you rarely see, let alone interact with, for candy. And worse yet, I never have been a huge fan of candy–chocolate, sure, but there’s a whole genre of jelly bean and gummy candy that leaves me cold. And don’t get me started on butterscotch. So overall, in spite of my enjoyment of the few times I’ve done acting in my life, costuming myself up, and acting as something I’m not for the sake of sweets doesn’t do much for me.

 

As a kid, my sister and I would troll the neighborhood together. She was the candy connoisseur–for all I know, she still could be–and when we’d get home, we’d have the swap of candy we didn’t want. She was never a fan of things like Almond Joy or Mounds bars, and, well, I found great handfuls of stuff that I didn’t want.

 

But while it was kind of entertaining to a point, I never saw the need to cut up a jack-o-lantern, or dress up because neither was entirely fun. At least not to me. I know.

 

But these days, I’m a parent of kids who do fully embrace the entirety of Halloween. The girls love dressing up as something creepy–this year we found nice dresses at thrift stores and they cut them up and covered them up with latex paint blood spatter. Patrick is dressing up as a cartoon character and going to some party with friends. And I just bought $25 worth of candy to hand out…And hopefully have some left over. Chocolate, I hope.

 

See you tomorrow.