"As with things American culture, Halloween is sure to catch on." Photo / Getty Images
"As with things American culture, Halloween is sure to catch on." Photo / Getty Images
After the seriousness of late it was a welcome change to celebrate the frivolity of Halloween over the weekend.
Like young children, I love a dress up. Although if I'm invited to another 60s party I don't know what I will do, but I will do something that won't involve squeezing into a mini dress of my mothers', who stands a foot shorter than me.
I was a Halloween grinch until our mommy-and-me class celebrated with our 10-month-old babies and I realised how gosh darn cute it is. Half-heartedly dressing our daughter as a mouse, the night prior I had knitted pink ears and crocheted a pink tail. A Bonds onesie completed her look.
Inspired by (read a blatant copy of) our neighbour, I had us out the eve of Halloween searching for a pumpkin. I found one, all 21kg of it. My husband attacked it with a handsaw and soon we had a giant hollowed-out pumpkin on our lawn. With our baby sitting inside it. Instagram gold.
Ensuing years were a variation of a theme. I rolled out the same gig with pink gumboots. Then a black ballerina mouse. Then we pledged to family costumes. With my short hair, we could have passed for Claire and Frank Underwood. I would have had to get running but I did love her wardrobe, and I figured our daughter could be the love child of the Frank/Claire/Meechum three-way. Those plans were thwarted thanks to the alleged indiscretions by Kevin Spacey and the #TimesUp movement.
We made a mad dash for the $2 shop on Saturday afternoon and our fairy and her cousin set off, hers an inspired choice as a Hawaiian tourist complete with a fanny pack.
Many people had resolutely closed their curtains despite the sun still being up. I pictured them inside, silent and not moving a muscle as a hopeful knock came at the door. Buoyed by their initial success the girls approached a house with no Halloween adornments. A man opened the door with a beer, apologetically informing the kids he had no candy but perhaps they'd like some chips.
"After the seriousness of late it was a welcome change to celebrate the frivolity of Halloween over the weekend." Photo / Supplied
Cue instant tears from my daughter. After years of school Halloween parades, pumpkin patches and unlike the smarty pants New Zealanders, no Americans ever asking for a trick, it was unfathomable that someone wouldn't be taking part. To quell the wailing, he reappeared with a full-size Aero and Luxury Flake.
I couldn't hide my excitement. "Full size!" I kept exclaiming, trying to redirect the emotions from anguished to elated. It was then my brother and I noticed that like a pack of hyenas sensing weakness, all the nearby kids were racing up the driveway. We hurried on smugly guilty that we got the candy but that he was about to be besieged.
Later I reminded her of the Switch Witch. After selecting her favourite pieces, she happily put the rest of the candy back into the bucket for the Switch Witch to exchange for a little toy, for some reason in this case, a trophy. The Switch Witch is easily the best key learning I have from Halloween. That, and taking the candy to the UCLA dentists who pay $1 per pound, package the candy up and send it to the troops. Is it preferable that the troops get cavities rather than our kids?
As with all things American culture, Halloween is sure to catch on. I promise to be organised next year, and I can't wait to enjoy the bravery and excitement on her little face for years to come.
