Halloween

So, over the last, oh 15 years or so, I've developed this hate of Halloween. Not so much the actual day itself or the pumpkins or costumes. As a kid, I loved Halloween and (if I may brag a little) often won contests at elementary school because my mom made me such awesome costumes. One year I was the Betty Crocker Hamburger Helper Helping Hand. Huge, huge chicken wire cloth covered thing that I had to hold up on my body. In the third grade. One year I was a butterfly wearing all black except for the wings, which were these huge poster board pieces with layers of different colored tissue paper between them and intricately cut out designs on the wings. (Yes, Mom was a talented craftswoman, a trait I sadly never developed...couldn't even finish a hook rug). One year in the fourth grade, I was a green dragon with a huge paper mache head and the body of it was a bunch of my classmates (except for Kim who puked right before the contest and we kicked her out of the suit -- I heard rumor that she's out in Hollywood now, big in the entertainment industry). I loved going trick or treating with the neighbor boys. We mapped out the entire town and X'd out the houses that gave out stupid popcorn balls or pennies. When we got home, we'd sort through the bounty and trade. Didn't we all do that as kids? Who didn't love Halloween?

Well, somewhere along the way as I grew up and started living on my own and it was at that point I began to despise Halloween. Specifically:I hate when little kids come to my door and ask for candy. Hello!? What is my problem? Have I turned into Grumpy Old Lady with the X'd out house who never turns on her lights or answers her door? Lordy, it's gotten so bady lately that I simply avoid even being home on Halloween. I just refuse to be there and have to deal. So tonight we're going out to dinner and a movie. Happy Halloween!