Confessions of a Has-Been Trick-or-Treater

Then

Is this a sick joke? My parents left me alone at our house on Halloween.

Now

Okay, so since I spent the weekend in NYC partying my pre-hurricane, “lioness” tail off, I decided I would stay in on this Wednesday "Halloween" evening.

Admittedly, I’ve been suffering from deathly, flu-like symptoms, so I figured I’d be responsible and rest up for the weekend’s festivities.

Anyways, I left work early and told my parents, who commute back to the ‘burbs from their jobs in Boston each night, that I would manage the “trick-or-treat” duties until they arrived home. Mind you, this is the first time I’ve been at my actual home in my childhood neighborhood for Halloween since like, middle school.

So around 5:15 p.m., there I am, lighting candles and pumpkins, filling plastic caldrons with chocolate, perusing about in search of the old “Monster Mash” CD. All the while I’m patiently awaiting the rents’ arrival home so I can be relieved of these oh-so laborious tasks and dive into a glass of wine, hot shower, and Homeland.

When, what to my wandering eyes should appear?

But a text from my wayward father that reads, “Hey Jules, traffic is bad. We may head into the North End for the night. Do you have Halloween under control?”

Umm.. well.. yeah, I guess so. Do I like, hand them the candy, or let them take it? And how many pieces... I totally forget what the standard is…. I’M A LITTLE RUSTY, BUT SURE.

Somewhere in Between

So here I am, glaring enviously at these cherubic ghouls as they revel in the two traits that I do not, and will not ever again possess: YOUTH AND INNOCENCE.

Halloween is actually a celebration of this. And I don’t meant “youthfully” looking like a slut and drinking Smirnoff until you slur like an infant, and stuff.

I mean three-feet blonde “rainbow kitties” in head-to-toe footsies, who say “thank you” with sincerity and act like that Kit Kat in your hand holds the keys to the (Magic) Kingdom.

Hold on. I hear the doorbell-- that's my cue..

NICE. A (miniature) M&M. Cuter than you’ll be… ever again!

But really, when I stare toward the bottom of their pillowcases and hear the plastic drop down onto a pile of more plastic, sugar-filled goodness, I’m actually excited for these kids.

I imagine being out among my pint-sized pals pining for the most candy, feverishly emptying it out onto my family room floor once we've finally drained the neighbors dry… 110… 111… Mikey (big bro), I’m going to beat you!

Followed by a “trading candy” session and a week of bagged lunches stuffed with goodies, the act of trick-or-treating is an all-around jovial and rewarding endeavor. 

Tonight, reliving and reflecting on all of these memories doesn’t make me feel sad or overly nostalgic. It makes me feel happy. Happy to see these kids still enjoying something so simple and menial as a meager costume and a high candy count. And perhaps that’s what Halloween is all about... just getting out there and doing your best to go for the “gold.” Rain or shine, ready to be Frankenstein.

To the youth of our nation: Keep on, keepin’ on. Glad to know that when push comes to shove, you can actually detach your hand from that savvy smartphone and beg for a bevy of candy. TRICK-OR-TREAT... CHERISH IT!!!

Now go get dat pirates booty.