A Halloween that starts under threatening skies — outdoors and in — wouldn’t seem to have much potential.

But it ended with Little Guy moaning on the floor that his tummy hurt and Big Guy weeping bitterly — sure signs they had the time of their lives.

Big Guy’s done that before when faced with the end of a head-over-heels joyful day. He fell to the sidewalk and cried at the end of his party for autumn last fall, and it took him months to get past getting misty at memories of his first sleepover.

“Why can’t Halloween be every day?” he sobbed tonight. “It’s the bestest day of the year.” There’s nothing you can do but rock him as he cries.

Meanwhile, Little Guy writhed and fussed on the floor. “My tummy hurt. Scrub it! Scrub it for me!” It wasn’t solely Halloween overindulgence. Let me just say that all evening Thomas the Tank Engine sounded more gas-powered than steamy. Too much candy was a factor, though, along with too much energy expended running the streets in search of “more trick or treat.” A crash was inevitable.

As we woke this morning, a wretched day appeared inevitable. It still was dark, which led Little Guy to demand to go trick or treating right now — he has been waiting for over a month. And Halloween last year was the first holiday he really “got,” sealing its place as special.

Then Big Guy decided to protest his clothes, rifling through his dresser until he found the one shirt he owns with a hood. Mrs. A had told them to wear a hood in case it rained during their field trip, and if Mrs. A said it, he had to do it. His jacket also has a hood, but he wanted to leave nothing to chance.

I’m considering asking Mrs. A to tell him he has to eat his breakfast. A mother of a classmate has worked that angle, and she’s seeing progress with her son.

We survived the field trip relatively dry, and the guys even showed remarkable patience as we spent hours after school running errands.

That’s because they knew tonight would be theirs.

There are a few days of the year when the guys get to run hog wild — birthdays, Christmas, the Fourth of July and Halloween. Other than “don’t kill each other, “stop screaming” and “don’t run into traffic,” they pretty much have free reign.

Indulgent? Maybe. Confusing to them? Possibly. I like to think, though, that there’s still a place besides Chuck E. Cheese where a kid can be a kid. This evening we didn’t have to go far to find it.

From the adult perspective, it was a strange night.

Trick or treat crowds traditionally are huge when Halloween’s on a Friday — I remember a frantic call one year from Dad when he ran out of candy by 8. Just turn off the porch light, I advised from work. This year, we walked entire blocks without running into another group.

Our neighborhood usually is famous for Halloween hospitality, but tonight the lights were on only at roughly one in six houses. And there aren’t even that many foreclosures on our streets.

The guys don’t notice those things, though.

All Big Guy cared about was the joy of his cape floating behind him, Yes! He stuck it out with the costume all night. He was Batman and he had Favorite Cousin by his side. What more could a 5-year-old want?

All Little Guy wanted was to run as quickly as he could to collect as much candy as he could. “This is the best Halloween ever!” he cheered.

The skies threatened, but it never rained.

Yes, it was the best Halloween ever. But, then, it is every year with the guys.

Copyright 2008 Debra Legg. All rights reserved.

Similar Posts:

None Found

Popularity: 8% [?]