This was written in October 2005.Teen Spirit was 14, OSFO was 8. Smartmom was…
Photo by Adrian Kinloch, Brit in Brooklyn
Halloween morning, the kids popped out of bed early, ready for their
breakfast candy. "Stop stealing from the trick or treat bowl. That's
for later," Hepcat bellowed. Even Teen Spirit, who is historically
difficult to rouse in the morning, was up and ready for high school in
record time, his pockets stuffed with Hershey's kisses.
The Oh
So Feisty One packed her cowgirl chaps in her pink backpack. "Just in
case my teacher lets us put on our costumes." This was unlikely because
her school prohibits any recognition of Halloween in sensitivity to the
children whose religious beliefs prevent them from participating.
Smartmom
tried to get some money work done on Monday but by 2 p.m, she
surrendered to the reality that Monday afternoon and evening were for
one thing and one thing only: Halloween.
First crisis of the day: the case of the missing cowboy hat: OSFO searched the apartment
high and low. Smartmom finally unearthed it underneath Teen Spirit’s
bed.
Second crisis: Teen Spirit needed a shirt for his impromptu
pirate costume. "You can wear this black shirt of Dad's." Smartmom told
him. "No he can't," Hepcat screamed from the living room. "That's my
special black shirt."
"it's alright, mom," Teen Spirit told Smartmom ever-attentive to Hepcat’s moods.
They
did manage to find a billowy white shirt in the closet. Teen Spirit
strapped on his belt, plastic sword, and the pirate hat he'd purchased
at Rite Aid, ready to join a band of roving teenage pirates who were
waiting downstairs.
Aargh.
Trick or Treating on Seventh
Avenue, OSFO was, characteristically, driven to procure as much candy
as she could possibly fit into her shopping bag. They were joined by
Ducky, who was dressed in a zip-up bunny costume with little paw gloves and a
cloth carrot.
Her first Halloween ever – god knows what Ducky
was thinking. Big brown eyes open wide, she inhaled the crazy costumed
scene from her stroller.
The group went back to Groovy Aunt’s
for some apartment-building style trick or treating. Volume is what it's about. "Let's see," OSFO calculated. "They've got six floors
and eight apartments on each floor…”
OSFO hasn't learned her multiplication tables yet, but still, that's a lot of candy.
Third Crisis: OSFO developed Halloween fatigue mixed with an acute case of "not being the center of attention."
That
darn baby in that darn bunny suit: Ducky was sucking all the attention
out of the room with a straw. OSFO ripped off her cowgirl chaps and
flung her Payless cowgirl boots across the living room and staged a a
world-class snitsky. Arms tightly crossed, she faced a wall and snarled. The only remedy: a large dose of alone time.
Rejuvenated
by a few minutes of quiet and three mini Twix bars, OSFO was ready for
a little trick or treating and the Halloween parade. "The houses with
the Jack-O-lanterns are the ones with the candy," she said with the
assuredness of a seasoned navigator. Racing up and down the brownstone
stoops, she rang on door bells and filled her bag with more candy.
Crisis
number four: By the time they got to the parade, it was over. The
streets were filled with teenagers. Teen Spirit was spotted in front of
Starbucks with a can of shaving cream – horror of horrors. Strange to
say, with all her worries about sex, drugs and rock 'n roll, Smartmom
never once imagined he'd be a shaving cream trickster.
Live and learn. Hepcat trailed Teen Spirit and the teenage pirates to Barnes and Noble and insisted that he be home by nine.
Before
bedtime, OSFO weighed her Halloween treat bag on the bathroom scale:
"I've got five pounds of candy. Don't anybody touch it," she screamed
and then proceeded to stash it in her secret hide-a-way.
Halloween
Crisis number five: The day after Halloween, Teen Spirit couldn't keep
his eyes open during English class. He fell asleep on his desk.
Smartmom hopes he didn't snore. Now that would be very distracting.
How was your Halloween?