I must admit that I am a bit of a Halloween dud.
Our home is not decorated with ghouls, vampires, smoke machines or spiders. The cul-de-sac we live on does not even warrant the purchase of a single bag of Snickers or Butterfingers.
My kids, though, love Halloween – everything about it. This was on full display while pulling the minivan into the parking spot at the local pumpkin patch this past weekend.
Like most little ones, mine are ready trick-or-treat like there is no tomorrow. We are in full planning mode for the big fall extravaganza – conceptualizing our jack-o-lantern designs, planning costumes and finding a friend’s block that provides the perfect combination of close houses, safety and tolerance for some adult beverages during our expedition.
And, as we prepare for October 31, I’m reminded of five long-standing, personal Halloween rules that have served me well – even if I’m a Halloween hater.
Halloween Rule #1: No adult/kid costume combo’s
Yes, dressing up like your toddler son is adorable. There is certainly no harm in walking up and down the street as Robin if you son is Batman. But, I must be honest, parents in a supporting costume role as their child toddles up to the front door is a bit much. This screams of “look at me” while the attention should really be on your child.
The first year I can remember my oldest boys trick-or-treating, I wore a toga – nothing obnoxious but, for me, completely regrettable. After feeling like a goof as I made conversations with other (normally dressed) neighbors, I consciously retired the idea of wearing a costume while escorting my kids ever again. I’ll save my own costumes for the adult parties and leave the trick-or-treating attention to the little ones.
Halloween Rule #2: No masks
This year, I’ve immediately vetoed Everett’s (age 6) idea of being “the Scream guy.” Nope, I said, my kids aren’t wearing masks.
While it might be fun for a few seconds for kids to cover their head and face with a scary clown or a presidential candidate, the concept is as impractical as it will be short-lived.
Masks are expensive, sweaty and, based on my experience, destined to be ripped off in three houses – the amount of candy stockpiled before kids start devouring and realize the mask is an unnecessary annoyance.
No masks. No way.
Halloween Rule #3: No high school participation
Can we all unite around the age limits of candy collection at Halloween ending when high school begins?
I’m not against high schoolers dressing up and having a blast with their friends. I am, though, sick of answering the door far too late for a pack of 16-year-olds wearing sunglasses and their home soccer jersey to score a Twix bar.
Halloween Rule #4: The fun begins at 6 pm
There should be a universal trick-or-treating start time – it would make so much sense. First, such a time would provide me the credibility needed to hold my littles ones off between the end of the school day and the start of their costume-clad sugar rush.
Next, early trick-or-treating is awkward – putting both the treater and giver in the position of apologizing to each other.
A start time of 6 pm seems reasonable and allows for no further, “Oh, let me open the candy” or “We’re early, just couldn’t keep Aidan out of his costume” conversations.
Halloween Rule #5: Communal candy
My five kids understand that their candy is our candy – with two exceptions: (a) an individual zip lock baggie of their favorite collections they own and (b) the Baby Ruth’s belong to me.
I never understood the idea of allowing kids to hoard their own candy as only for themselves. In fact, doing so might drive behaviors that no parent should want on Halloween – a “shop til you drop” mentality in our littles to jam pillowcases full of sweets.
Not only does communal candy reign in the trick-or-treating timeline, it provides for at least a month’s worth of parental leverage as we use the candy collection as part of our daily reward system to get our little monsters to do their chores.
So, while I love seeing my kids excited about Halloween, I’ll follow my rules to bridge the gap between their love of the holiday and unenthusiastic shoulder-shrug toward it. In a few weeks I’ll cross over our Halloween divide to the promised land of lights turned off by 8 pm, unmasked children and a month’s supply of Baby Ruth bars.
All made possible by five simple, Halloween-hating rules.
