Happy Halloween Kiddies

No matter how hard folks have tried to make me grow up over the years, it just isn't coming easy. The trick-or-treaters at my door tonight only encouraged me to continue shunning total adulthood and to dig in my heels whenever life pulls me in directions where only grown-ups tend to tread. Maybe that's why I can relate so well to five-year-olds dressed as super heroes. I can vividly remember Halloween when I was in the first grade. Our real school, Midway Elementary, had not yet been finished so we spent much of that year at the Presbyterian Church across the street. My teacher, Miss Davenport, tried to explain the concept but I couldn't understand why Halloween wasn't a school's-out holiday like Christmas. It was just as important to me. After all, when else was it acceptable to beg for candy from strangers, stay up late eating stuff that was bad for you by the bag full, and then watch a classic monster movie on the late show until you crashed? Between the sugar high and being scared out of your young, impressionable mind it was a night second only to Christmas Eve in my book. Tonight I greeted several miniature Batmans and Spider-Mans, a zombie cheerleader (one of my all-time favorites along with the pregnant nun), a clown, a fireman, a couple of policemen, Dorothy and more fairy princesses than I can remember ever seeing in the same place at the same time. As an added holiday bonus there were even two stroller-pushing moms still dressed in their work outfits from Hooters. It was really cool . . . almost as cool as what I had planned on my front lawn for all pubescent revelers as they innocently approached to ask for a treat. You see my youngest step son and I are of the same mind when it comes to the real meaning of Halloween trick-or-treating. It's a well orchestrated plan. I am the lure, quietly, ever so meekly, drawing them in for a treat as he hides in the shadows dressed as a gorilla. There is no joy so sweet as watching an empty handed 13-year-old turn and run as Zach charges across the yard in full costume on all fours, occasionally stopping to beat his chest in a Kong-like manner. Trick-or-treating is for the little guys, so get over it and don't come back to my house at Halloween unless accompanied by a child; preferably one dressed like a zombie cheerleader or pregnant nun. Happy Halloween kiddies!