benj
10-19-2004, 07:28 AM
Anybody have kids that will be going Trick or Treating in a fortnight?
You should try Trick or Treating in a country that doesn’t celebrate Halloween. Last year I suited up my four-year-old in an Anne Gedde-like T-rex costume. I then took him around to the six houses of our cul-de-sac, to give him his first taste of Trick or Treating.
Knock! Knock!
From the corner of a window, a curtain was pulled back. An eye appeared. It blinked, twice. The eye vanished into the darkness. The heavy clunk of a deadbolt lock is heard as it is run back. A door cracked open to the limits of a chain lock. Two eyes appeared.
‘Trick or Treat,’ said the dwarf dinosaur.
‘Hello there darling,’ said the old lady. She cast her one good eye at me saying, ‘She’s so cute.’
‘It’s a boy,’ I correct.
With frail hands, the nightgown nanna struggled to remove the chain lock.
‘Oh, and what a cute crocodile you are,’ she said.
My son twisted his head back round at me. He hated to be called cute. If his eyes had been daggers the old lady would be dino-dinner.
‘He’s a dinosaur.’
‘A tyrannosaurs rex,’ he said in a tongue dripping with indignation.
‘That’s nice,’ said granny. She locked her one good eye on me again saying, ‘What am I supposed to do?’
For a split second I thought about telling the old chook to just drop the kid a twenty and we’ll be on our way. Instead, I prompted her as tactfully as I could.
‘You’re supposed to put a treat, like candy, in his bag. Otherwise he plays a trick on you like hiding your garden gnome. He’s already holding three of the little buggers for ransom.’
Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.
‘Just kidding.’ I flashed my best fake smile. I did notice that her tree would look good draped in toilet paper.
On slippered feet, nanna shuffled to her pantry and brought a bar of chocolate. Thankfully, grannies always kept a secret stash of chocolate for their grand kids. With hands shaking from excitement, she slid the treat into my son’s empty bag.
My son’s eyes lit up like the stars above him. I smiled. I had just enjoyed one of those fleeting, proud-parent ‘moments.’
Then I gave him a gentle, nudge.
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re very welcome.’
A smile stretched across her wrinkled face. She rolled her eyes up at me. ‘Do I know you?’
‘We live two houses down in number twenty-eight.’
‘Oh, the nice, little boy,’ she said. ‘He has such good manners.’
‘Thank you.’ I squeezed out a Cheshire cat smile.
A similar scenario played out at the remaining five houses we visited. Nevertheless, my son was thrilled at the sight of a bag weighted with treats.
I’m hoping to venture further a field this Halloween. My son thinks he’s is too old for cute costumes this year. He’s going to strike fear in the pace-makers of the neighbours this year by dressing up as a phantom pirate that would scare the piss out of Captain Jack Sparrow himself. Have a fun and save Halloween...Boo!
You should try Trick or Treating in a country that doesn’t celebrate Halloween. Last year I suited up my four-year-old in an Anne Gedde-like T-rex costume. I then took him around to the six houses of our cul-de-sac, to give him his first taste of Trick or Treating.
Knock! Knock!
From the corner of a window, a curtain was pulled back. An eye appeared. It blinked, twice. The eye vanished into the darkness. The heavy clunk of a deadbolt lock is heard as it is run back. A door cracked open to the limits of a chain lock. Two eyes appeared.
‘Trick or Treat,’ said the dwarf dinosaur.
‘Hello there darling,’ said the old lady. She cast her one good eye at me saying, ‘She’s so cute.’
‘It’s a boy,’ I correct.
With frail hands, the nightgown nanna struggled to remove the chain lock.
‘Oh, and what a cute crocodile you are,’ she said.
My son twisted his head back round at me. He hated to be called cute. If his eyes had been daggers the old lady would be dino-dinner.
‘He’s a dinosaur.’
‘A tyrannosaurs rex,’ he said in a tongue dripping with indignation.
‘That’s nice,’ said granny. She locked her one good eye on me again saying, ‘What am I supposed to do?’
For a split second I thought about telling the old chook to just drop the kid a twenty and we’ll be on our way. Instead, I prompted her as tactfully as I could.
‘You’re supposed to put a treat, like candy, in his bag. Otherwise he plays a trick on you like hiding your garden gnome. He’s already holding three of the little buggers for ransom.’
Her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.
‘Just kidding.’ I flashed my best fake smile. I did notice that her tree would look good draped in toilet paper.
On slippered feet, nanna shuffled to her pantry and brought a bar of chocolate. Thankfully, grannies always kept a secret stash of chocolate for their grand kids. With hands shaking from excitement, she slid the treat into my son’s empty bag.
My son’s eyes lit up like the stars above him. I smiled. I had just enjoyed one of those fleeting, proud-parent ‘moments.’
Then I gave him a gentle, nudge.
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re very welcome.’
A smile stretched across her wrinkled face. She rolled her eyes up at me. ‘Do I know you?’
‘We live two houses down in number twenty-eight.’
‘Oh, the nice, little boy,’ she said. ‘He has such good manners.’
‘Thank you.’ I squeezed out a Cheshire cat smile.
A similar scenario played out at the remaining five houses we visited. Nevertheless, my son was thrilled at the sight of a bag weighted with treats.
I’m hoping to venture further a field this Halloween. My son thinks he’s is too old for cute costumes this year. He’s going to strike fear in the pace-makers of the neighbours this year by dressing up as a phantom pirate that would scare the piss out of Captain Jack Sparrow himself. Have a fun and save Halloween...Boo!