Any-Mom » It’s All About the Candy

It’s All About the Candy

11.01.2008 | Author: OrganizerMom | Posted in Cranking the Wheel

It’s November 1st, the day after Halloween. It’s 10:21 a.m. and I’ve just dipped into my son’s candy haul and gobbled down 3 Snickers and 2 Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. The wrappers litter the table around me as the sugar hits my veins and pumps through my body. I close my eyes and think about all the things I have always liked about Halloween: the candy, the dressing up as someone else and going out after dark to collect candy, the candy, the candy, the candy.

Sure, other holidays have candy. Christmas, yes: homemade fudge, Hershey’s Kisses in my stocking, and desserts galore. Easter, for sure: chocolate bunnies and candy-coated chocolate eggs. But Halloween is unencumbered by all the religious gobbledy-gook that are attached to those two holidays. On Halloween, I’m not eating the flesh of Christ or an egg symbolizing the tomb that gave Jesus a rebirth. On Halloween, candy is just candy.

Even better, the whole point of Halloween is—you guessed it—the candy. Why do we get dressed up in scary costumes to go Trick-or-Treating? It’s not for fruits and vegetables, it’s for CANDY! Sure, Halloween started out as a pagan festival, scheduled for the last harvest days and start of the long winter which brought deaths to old and young. A day when the line between living and dead was blurred and spirits walked the earth. But that was a long time ago. Today, any kid will tell you that Halloween is all about the candy.

In fact, my son just made that clear last night. As my husband walked him around the neighborhood, collecting treats from indulgent neighbors, my son repeatedly exclaimed, “I LIKE Halloween. I mean I REALLY like Halloween. Even I like the CANDY. I can’t wait for NEXT Halloween.”

I used to have this unbridled enthusiasm for Halloween myself. It’s always been one of my favorite holidays. (Have I mentioned the candy?) But the older I get, the more it just seems another chore to struggle through. Pull out the storage boxes from the crawl space; clutter the house with bizarre and frightening creatures; locate, buy, and carve pumpkins; find candles for same; buy candy at the last minute to minimize overall exposure to its seductive force; dress the kid and take him around begging for food; pass out candy to other people’s greedy little kids; eat large quantities of candy over the next few weeks; walk around feeling permanently light-headed and sick to the stomach. Well, okay, the eating part I can handle.

This year, sick with a cold, recovering from a crappy day waiting in line at the DMV, tired and headachy, I found very little to like about Halloween (except, of course, the candy). The doorbell starting ringing while I was cleaning up the dishes. Someone in my immediate vicinity was actually heard to mutter, “F—ing kids!” I don’t know who said it, but I hightailed it to the door, plastered on a fake smile, and said, “Happy Halloween!” while holding out a large basket of assorted candy.

It’s always interesting to watch the kids make their choices. Some kids just plunge in a hand and come up with about eight pieces. To these I caution, “Only take two.” Most of the little brats ignore me and scamper off with their haul. The youngest children, whose parents hover nearby, can stand and stare at the basket for minutes, trying to decide on the best choice. Usually a parent will just grab a piece and hand it to the kid, then usher them away, eager to get the whole thing over with so they can go home and watch TV. I guess I would probably fall into this camp, but luckily my husband is a sweet and patient man and is willing to be the Trick-or-Treat leader for our son.

After several aborted attempts to wash the last cooking pan because of doorbell interruptions, I give it up and decide to fortify myself with a glass of wine. Luckily, my husband and son come home soon after and they take over the passing out candy duties. My son actually likes doing this. He carefully chooses one piece of candy and hands it delicately to each child. Mercifully, we run out of candy sooner than expected. Our last batch of kids were almost as tall as me and came in a posse of at least thirteen. Now that’s scary.

My son is hyped up on sugar and a Halloween High so it takes him a long time to fall asleep. But no sooner do we shut his door, my husband and I are inspecting the contents of his pumpkin bag. He’s still small enough to not notice missing candy so we delve in with impunity. Hershey’s Miniatures in my left hand and another glass of wine in my right, I mellow and start to remember again all the things I like about Halloween: the costumes, the candy, the pumpkins, the candy, the kids, and the candy.