Among all the things that having kids will ruin for you as an adult, Halloween doubles-down on the bummers. First of all, I’m a grown-up and skipping door-to-door with my friends getting huge piles of candy is no longer considered appropriate and is generally frowned upon by all of society. And as grown-ups, we’re supposed to be really mature about cholesterol, sugar, caffeine, and only eating chocolate that’s fancier than anything that came from Hershey, PA aka The Detroit of Chocolate. We’re supposed to take little nibbles of artisanal chocolate and say, “oh, mmm, this bitter toenail of chocolate is bursting with handcrafted amazingness.”
Second of all, when you have kids, they never wear the costume you want them to, thus killing any opportunity to live vicariously through them and be Skeletor like I never could be when I was a kid because I was a girl and it JUST WASN’T DONE. And I have to deal with their freaking out excited insanity over getting bags of candy, the same kind of insanity that I used to feel when I was a kid. My mom used to brace herself every Halloween knowing that she was about to have four of her offspring continuously high on the sugar we’d be hoarding through the winter like evil chipmunks.
Luckily, I’m smarter than my parents (like all children). I have discovered the greatest way to not only rob my children of their candy and keep if for myself, but to get them to do it willingly. It’s called, The Great Pumpkin. A Charlie Brown character may have coined the phrase but I have perfected it, fleshed it out, turned it into something with which to manipulate children and get their candy. I tell my kids that they can pick out 10 of their favorite pieces of candy and keep them. Then, they must leave the rest of the candy at the front door so that in the middle of the night, the Great Pumpkin can accept your sugar-sacrifice and leave you a kickass present. The boys pick their candy (kids always pick the dumbest candy!) and leave the rest in front of the door. Then, like a boss, I swoop in, take all their candy and leave them a couple of presents. They wake up in the morning, tear into their gifts, awash in the magic, eating their candy and forgetting all about the huge horde they gave up that now resides in my closet that I sit on like a dragon. You’re welcome.