Loose Ends
Let the race begin!
Susan Nienow

This time of year is marked by competition for best costume design, most creative Halloween cookies and best decorated front entrance.

I was in a shoe department last week and overheard two women talking. One said she had pumpkin-shaped cookies already baked and in her freezer, ready for the Halloween party her third grader was having at school. The other said she had stayed up late finishing her son's Power Ranger costume, so he could wear it to preschool.

I still remember my son's reaction two decades ago when I handed him a platter of round cookies with red frosting to take to school for his Halloween party. "They don't look like pumpkins," he said.

"I forgot I was out of yellow food coloring," I said. "Just tell everyone red pumpkins are new."

"Who's Chuck Finn, and why does this shirt smell like coffee?" he asked when I handed him his costume. They didn't have much selection in ready-made costumes back then, and he absolutely refused to be Mickey Mouse.

"I used coffee to stain your Dad's old white shirt," I explained. "And it's Huck Finn. He was a cool guy who wore old shirts."

One year I made a cape red on one side and black on the other. So my daughter was Little Red Riding Hood one year, and my son was Dracula the next. I wanted him to be Zorro, but he insisted he had never heard of the guy.

All of this led up to one night of trick-ortreating where the kids used pillow cases to carry their treats. It brought to mind pictures of happy, excited kids going from house to house, impressing the occupants with their fresh-faced enthusiasm.

I remember the year my daughter was scared of all the people in costumes in the dark, but wouldn't go home or she would be a chicken, her brother informed her. So instead of saying "Trick or Treat" when the door opened, she cried, "I don't want to be a chicken."

Feeling slightly sorry he had caused his sister so much pain, her brother finally quieted her by offering her all of his boxes of raisins at the end of the evening. Happy with anything from her older brother, she smiled through her tears, never realizing that boxes of raisins tied for number 47 on the treat popularity list, right after cans of green beans.

Halloween used to be the perfect opportunity to buy my favorite candy guilt-free. If I bought the bags of candy too early, I ate them all before "the day" and suffered from extreme guilt. So I learned to time the buy - the stores still had my favorites, but I didn't have to control myself too long.

One year I miscalculated and ran out of candy before the doorbell quit ringing. After the kids went to bed I snitched a few from the kids' stash. The next morning before breakfast my son yelled from his bedroom, "Who ate three of my Snickers?"