This is how Charlie woke up this morning, happy as a clam. That is, until we forced him into the requisite baby pumpkin costume.
I wonder what babies think of this strange holiday where they are dressed in some crazy outfit and a parade of terrifying goblins and ghouls come to their door. Can you guess what Leah’s costume is this year? She’s “Where’s Waldo?” Halloween was always a huge deal in our house. My mother would get so into the holiday I’d start to wonder whether the medieval belief that redheads were witches was true. She would decorate every inch of our house and organize the spookiest Halloween party in the neighborhood. I especially remember her scaring the bejeesus out of me and my blindfolded friends by passing around disgusting human entrails such as cantaloupe “eyeballs” and cold spaghetti “veins.” Every year my mother delighted in becoming the ugliest witch possible. She’d spend days dying sheets black in huge pots and fashioning her putty nose, bushy eyebrows, and hairy moles.
Below is my mom before her transformation and then just after. How many times have you seen a witch making a business call? Notice the cigarette in her hand in both pictures—truly the spookiest thing of all considering she would eventually die of lung cancer.
We are bracing ourselves for a huge onslaught of trick-or-treaters tonight. Everyone knows by now that Kendall gives out full-size candy bars (she just bought 300 of them—oy!) so at this point I wouldn’t be surprised to see buses of costumed moppets unloading in front of our house.
Here is seven-year-old Leah following in her grandmother's bewitched footsteps. When we were little, we didn’t stop trick-or-treating until we had several grocery bags filled to the brim with candy. It's a wonder I have any teeth left. Luckily, Leah was always into the social aspects of Halloween more than the coma-inducing sugary ones. She recently wrote a post on her blog decrying the holiday for giving girls her age an excuse to dress inappropriately. Indeed, the Halloween party held at her school a few nights ago looked like a dress rehearsal for a Cecil B. DeMille production of “Sodom and Gomorrah.” Leah looked so innocent in her Waldo costume. Not that my actress daughter is incapable of looking far older than her 14 years. Yesterday she received her final lice treatment (talk about spooky ordeals!) which involved yet again forcing a tiny comb through her voluminous red curls. As a result, her hair transformed into a gigantic cumulous cloud of auburn frizz. Instead of freaking out about it, Leah did what any seasoned thespian would do. She slapped on some make-up, grabbed one of her mother's dresses, and organized an impromptu photo shoot. Is this supermodel below really the same little witch from a few years ago? Yikes!
Happy Halloween, kids. Save me the Butterfingers.