For the first time in all of my 26 years, I officially “celebrated” Halloween last week. Hard to believe, I know. But, it's true. Growing up, we were “that” family. The ones with the porch lights off, huddled together, hiding from our neighborhood's marauding, candy-crazed ghosts and goblins.
Actually, now that I think about it, not much has changed. I spent Halloween night this year huddling upstairs with Jacob, porch lights off, while Tom was at work. (If you're wondering about how this meshes with my first sentence, I'll explain in a moment.)
I had considered handing out candy earlier that day, but then I realized we had none. And, THEN I thought about how expensive it would be if I did go buy some. And, THEN I imagined that if I did go buy some that opening my door to strangers at night while I was home alone sounded like an open invitation for a home invasion. (Nobody ever said I had a dull imagination.)
So, though we didn't hand out candy that night, we weren't completely Scrooge-ish (or whatever the Dickens' Halloween character equivalent would be). We got Jacob all dressed up a few days prior to join with his cousins at his Grandma and Papa's house. As you can see, he was the cutest little (J-)cub ever. And, I'm not “lion!” (Ha ha!)
If I have never mentioned it before shame on me, but Jacob has 18 sweet and adorable cousins (he's number 17), and on the Saturday prior to Halloween, all but the oldest two came together in all their costumed glory for a neighborhood “tent or treat.”
It was honestly one of the funnest times I've had as a family. Seeing the sheer delight on the kid's faces as they rushed from tent to tent collecting candy. Smelling the burning wood from the blazing fire pits. Killing, er, carving pumpkins for fun. Eating myself into a caramel-apple-induced coma. The evening was completely perfect from beginning to end.
Thinking about it now almost makes me want to join the rest of the world on Halloween night next year. Almost. (If only I hadn't looked up “Halloween home invasion” THIS year. Darn, Google.) Oh, well. Maybe next year I'll at least dress Jacob in a cute costume while we huddle.