My children are slightly manic that Halloween is fast approaching. We've been frantically creating festive pieces of art, like egg carton bats and witches made of toilet paper rolls. The windows of my house are adorned with hand decorated pumpkins, ghosts, and bats. Pumpkins sit on the doorstep, waiting to be carved into jack-o-lanterns. My daughters talk about their costumes four dozen times a day and discuss in great detail how they will devour the candy they collect as quickly as possibly. I listen in and smile, especially during the latter part. It's so cute that they believe they will be out trolling for candy they will keep. The reality is, my kids will be sent out onto the streets to get sweets for me. If they're lucky, I may toss them a Snickers or Baby Ruth, but the majority of their haul will be all mine. I do so adore Halloween!
I've always been one to mock the parents that rang my bell on Halloween with a babe in their arms in some sickly sweet costume like a pumpkin. "Trick-or-treat!" they would say, holding up their baby pumpkin to prove that they were doing this for the child. Skeptically, I would toss a Dum-Dum into their waiting bag, knowing that baby with the drool running down its chin would never get a lick of it. These parents were fooling no one: They were doing it for themselves. Sure, it's fun to dress kids up in costumes (you think Anne Geddes does it just for photographs?). But let's be real - you don't need to take an infant out trick-or-treating unless you, the parent, are seriously jonesing for some sugar. If anyone knows this, it's me.
My oldest kiddo's first Halloween arrived when she was six months old. I succumbed quickly and dressed her up like a fat little chicken. I took her to my husband's office party and paraded her about so everyone could "Oooh," "Aaah," and "Cluck, cluck" over her. Then I noticed something. Up and down the hallways of the buildings, chairs were lined up with bowls of candies resting atop the seat. I watched as young children ran down the hallways, grabbing the candies and shoving them as quickly as they couldinto their seemingly bottomless bags. They were trick-or-treating, taking what they could and making off like bandits in true Microsoft spirit. I saw them lug those bags of chocolates, gummies, and lollipops around and wanted my own share of the plunder.
"Would it look strange if the baby trick-or-treated?" I asked my husband innocently.
"What do you think?" he replied. "She can't even crawl but you think it's ok to have her get candy?"
"Well, I'll help her," I explained, still trying to maintain my innocence. "She should have this experience."
I had gone too far with that. He laughed and said, "You just want to use your child to score candy. Nice."
I don't think he noticed that I swiped the occasional Twix or Kit Kat from bowls as we made our way through the building saying hello to his coworkers. Next year, I thought. Next year will be the year I get all the candy.
But the following Halloween found me two weeks shy of my due date with my second kiddo. No matter. I waddled as best I could down the hallways, barking at my toddler to grab-n-go. She was utterly confused and not at all pleased to be wearing a strange ladybug costume. She didn't understand that I needed her to take the candy from the bowls in the hallway and put it in her bag. She looked at me as though I was forcing her into a life of crime and debauchery, instead of encouraging her to enjoy a childhood tradition. Her haul was decent, but I knew she could do better. And soon I would have two kids out begging for candy, doubling my sweet treats.
2007 blessed me with two children in costumes trick-or-treating. Ok, so my younger kiddo didn't really enjoy it and refused to wear anything other than an orange shirt but she could still hold a small bucket that I helped her put candy into. My older toddler seemed to get the hang of it but constantly took the wrong candies. "Get the chocolate," I whispered. "Enough with the suckers. No, no more Hershey Kisses. Milky Ways, Almond Joys, Skittles, and M&Ms, that's the good stuff." We came home with enough Tootsie Pops to last a lifetime and were out of miniature candy bars by night's end.
It was last year, 2008, that I felt as though I was truly able to reap the rewards of having children. They were completely aware of what the situation was. The way they navigated those hallways at their daddy's office and dodged in and out of crowds while quickly siphoning candies -and the good ones, too!- out of the bowls nearly made my eyes well up with tears. My youngest even managed to inspire guilt trips into the few people who didn't put out candy. She stood in their doorway, staring at them and saying, "Twick-or-tweeeet" over and over. Their muddled apologies meant nothing to her but I am confident those folks will do the right thing this year. By the end of the night, I sat amongst the candy they had collected with complete joy (and more than enough sugar) coursing through me.
"Can we have some?" they asked sweetly. Such good little children.
"No," I said. "Mommy needs to sort out the bad stuff that isn't good for your little teeth. When I've done that, you can have one or two pieces a day. Ok?"
"Ok!" they said, running off.
I truly took candy from babies. In my defense, I actually did create two separate bags for each girl that was filled with an array of candies. For a few days they asked about it and I dutifully doled out several pieces a day, as I had promised. But we all know kids have short attention spans and within days they were moving on to the next big thing: Making Christmas lists. I was able to indulge myself with their Halloween candy and they didn't even care. Ok, I waited until they were in bed to ensure that they wouldn't remember the candy but I appeased my guilt by thinking of their teeth and how I was saving them from possible cavities. What a good mother am I!
I know that all good things must come to an end, and I suspect that this will be the last year I am able to keep the majority of their trick-or-treating efforts to myself. My youngest has shown to have the same addiction to sugar as I have, which could make things complicated. Last year she managed to eat almost half of her loot before I could pry it away from her little hands. Future Halloweens will find me jealously watching as they unwrap the shiny wrappers from their candies and shove them into the mouths. They won't share and I won't expect them to. Heck, I never shared my Halloween haul with my parents when I was a kid... Hmmm. Seems karma's a bitch after all.
Happy Halloween, folks!