Parden my tardiness this week. I had a bad reaction to my Covid vaccine and was not up to posting anything here, but I feel much better now. I offer a reprise of my 2016 post, which says everything I have to say about Halloween. And no, I am not putting a costume on my dog.
It’s time for kid-centered holidays. Labor Day was no problem. But Halloween is a different story. All those kids whining about costumes and candy. All those proud parents taking pictures of their little ones dressed as pumpkins, Ninja Turtles, or whatever’s hot this year. Carving pumpkins, baking orange-frosted cupcakes, buying sugary treats to hand out at the door. It sounds exhausting.
Yesterday, I asked my hair stylist, mother of four, if she was ready for Halloween. She sighed. “Almost. I still have a few more things to do.” At that moment, I did not mind one bit that I don’t have children.
Yes, it might be fun to do Halloween with my kids. I might enjoy every minute of it. By now my children would be adults, possibly bringing their own children to my house to show their costumes to “Grandma.” I’d be posting pictures like crazy. But that’s not going to happen. Living out here in the spooky old woods, I don’t even get other people’s kids coming to the door. So I don’t have to buy candy. I still have a few of last year’s Tootsie Pops that I bought in a fit of optimism, but it’s too dark out here. If somebody knocks on the door, it might be a bear.
Remember that even if you had children, you might not see them on Halloween. My father’s children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren all lived far away, and he didn’t see them on Halloween. Mostly he just worried about trick-or-treaters smashing his plants and trashing his yard.
I could feel sorry for myself on Halloween, but I have choices, as do you. I can go to one of the many events for children and shower them with candy and compliments about their costumes or visit someone who lives in a more child-friendly neighborhood. My late mother-in-law lived in a section of town where people brought their kids by the busload. For several years, she hid in a back room while my husband and I handed out little Hershey Bars for hours. It was fun.
If you live in civilization, you can enjoy decorating your house and yard and offering tricks and treats to the neighborhood kids. Dress up, get silly. If you don’t have a kid, be a kid.
Or put on your own costume and go party with other adults. Karaoke, anyone? Pumpkin-tinis? Dancing to “The Monster Mash?”
If someone is pushing you to watch them and their kids have fun, you can go and be the fun “auntie” or “uncle.” You can also say no, stay home, turn out the porch light and watch TV. It’s okay.
What are your plans for Halloween? Are you looking forward to it or dreading it?
Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com
3 thoughts on “Halloween When You Don’t Have Children: Trick or Treat?”
This is still a hard one for me. I loved Halloween as a child, all the creativity and imagination. And I so looked forward to sharing the holiday with my own children. So I’m torn each year. I love seeing all the wee ones, and I delight in oohing and ahhing over their costumes. Then I close the door and ache in my solitude. Work-in-progress, this.
I loved it, too. This holiday can be very hard. May you find peace.
I love it. I’ll be carving a pumpkin, putting up some window stickers and dispensing sweets. It is the only time of year I really encounter any children. There have been times when I find the sound of their laughter and excitement very affecting.