The Second most popular holiday

         Halloween is a big deal to kids, probably holiday number two after Christmas.  My mother always sewed my costume, and when I was old enough, I began making my own.  I only remember one year when we purchased one of those cheesy, cheap rayon outfits.

         So when Robbie was born, he had homemade costumes.  For the first several years, he was at my mercy.  When he was old enough to express preferences, he came up with the idea, and I executed the design.

         The first year he was just his own cute, adorable, troublemaker self.

         The second year I added mouse ears and a tail to his PJs. 

         Third year he had a clown costume.  He noisily refused to wear the ruff (scratchy) and a clown nose (icky).  That outfit works for two years: I’d made it large on purpose.

         Fourth year he was Batman.  At the last second he refused to go trick or treating. I knew he would pitch a fit if he missed The Night, so I asked if he would go if we both dressed up as well.  So I whipped up a cape for Brad and kludged together a purple Batwoman for myself.

         He has been a dragon, and a vampire.  He designed his own Lego uniform, complete with black Lego “claws”.  The year he put together a Mr. Steed costume, he got mad because everyone thought he was Charlie Chaplin.  Obviously not fans of the British Avengers. The year he was Zorro, we went to Mexico to buy him the whip. 

Mr. John Steed, NOT Charlie Chaplin

Vampire. Wearing sneakers.  To silenty approach the victims?

Dragon.  Couldn't figure out how to make flame, thank goodness.

Lego man.

Never learned how to use the whip, also fortunately.

         Two years in a row were Power Ranger nights.  One year, the Blue Ranger, the next the White. 

I take advantage of any opportunity to wear a costume, so when Robbie was Hercules, I was Hera.  

I don't think Robbie knew what Hera finally did to Herc.

         In the fullness of time, we stopped trick or treating.  We actually never ate the candy.  In fact, I would save the candy from one year to the next and foist it off on the following year’s trick or treaters who came to the house.

         Instead we concentrated on giving treats.  We had green lights, a flashing, waving ghost lit with a strobe light. We found a talking skull on sale and nestled it within the cacti.  Some years Robbie’s friends came over and lurked by the doorway, dressed in black capes of my design. 

         I sat in front, dressed as a witch, to hand out treats.  One little boy wouldn't come near the place.  As he clung to his mother, I started toward him to give him his candy.  He wailed, “They’re coming after me!”

When Robbie left for College, I stopped decorating for Halloween.  Then we moved to a small, small town, where it is always far below freezing on The Night, so I gave up sitting outside and scaring small children as well.  I still have most of the costumes, though.