Five Reasons I Just Don’t Really Care About Halloween

I grew up on a dairy farm in Snow Creek, Virginia.

Snow Creek, guys.

Our driveway was practically an entire mile long and it led to a one lane road that connected to another country back road before it ever found its way twenty minutes later to a small town.

Halloween didn’t reach us out there.

And we didn’t care.

I have never felt deprived and I don’t think about losing a piece of childhood experience owed to me.

I have never lived in a neighborhood.  My children have never lived in a neighborhood.

Our house for a decade whilst our kiddos were being born and toddling through their days was at the end of another mile-long driveway leading to a gravel road leading to a back road that was assigned only a number until kind of recently.

I still don’t care about Halloween, you guys.

And I don’t feel guilty about that either.

Here are five reasons why I officially don’t spend any energy on this weekend’s holiday.

1.  It’s weird.  

Seriously – I don’t care for wearing costumes.  I can’t stand people’s faces being hidden behind masks.  I don’t like visiting strangers and I don’t really want to eat their food – let alone beg for their snacks whilst wearing a costume and making bizarre small talk.

2.  It’s creepy.

I’ve seen costumes that have an intricate design work of hoses attached across the wearer’s face so little tubes of “blood” can be pulsing around their head.  Gross.  Bloody tubes on a ten-year-old?  No thanks.  Not to mention the increase in gory zombies and dangling appendages and masks that nightmares are made of.

3.  It’s an excuse for girls to dress like ….. a lesser version of themselves.

I don’t feel like typing all of the names my momma would use to describe this kind of attire.    You might call me old-fashioned or prude-ish.  That’s fine.  But grown women in cat ears, thick eye liner and exaggerated cleavage for one night of Halloween fun strikes me as sort of sad.  And don’t even get me started on sticking your pre-teen daughter into a plunging v-neck and a barely-covering-her-rear skirt with fish net stockings and calling it cute.

4.  It’s wasteful.

We are not going to eat forty-two mini-sized Snickers bars.  I am not going to allow my children to consume entire packages of Baby Ruths and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups in one afternoon. Or one weekend.  Or one week.  So.  Will I throw away all of the candy that someone paid money to purchase to hand out to costume-clad strangers at their door?  Will I “trade it in” for a “healthier” version of candy at my local hip earthy food store?  You mean, I spent an entire evening collecting something you paid for so I can throw it away or give it away?

5.  It’s directly opposite of most advice we offer to our children.

We say to kids – “beware of strangers”.  I don’t allow our kids to beg for food at other people’s homes.  I don’t let my children stroll the neighborhood alone or with only a group of their peers.  I try to discourage innate greed and acquiring the most stuff.   We are not pro-hoarding.  We do not promote over consumption because the price is low or the product is readily available.

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You know, at the end of the day, I don’t really care deeply if you embrace Halloween as a family or if you do not.  I don’t ban all talk of Halloween from our home.  In fact, I think the kids have been designing pumpkin costumes for their Calico Critters this week.   I think kids in cute and appropriate costumes can be adorable and great for photo opportunities.  I’m not deciding for you if you should leave your porch light on or turn off all the front lights and hide out in the basement until the evening passes.

I’m just one person writing some words that you can choose to take or to leave.