Mac and Cheese in the Bathtub

For Halloween this year, after my earlier lament, I decided to leave the candy-giving-outting to my older daughter who, at 15, grudgingly hung up her pillowcase. This is the child who has always loved Halloween – even more than Christmas. Fortunately, she didn’t need to be sedated. In any case, while she got into the spirit of giving by donning a red and black devil wig (complete with red horns) and a red-trimmed black cape, I helped her sister prepare for our night out on the town. This year’s costume was a huge hit – although we’re not quite sure what she was. An unofficial survey yielded that she was a baby ogre (“you can’t be a real ogre because you aren’t big enough!”) or an evil troll. One lady asked if she was a leprechaun. I swear I heard my daughter mutter under her breath, “Do I LOOK magically delicious?!?!?” Her costume consisted of a long, black “gown” that velcroes down her back. Covering its entire front, from shoulder to thigh, is a protruding, gruesome, toothy latex face – complete with hairy red beard. A tall black hat – with a barely visible, let’s-not-have-you-falling-down-everyone’s-front-steps mesh panel – covered her head and rested lightly on her shoulders. From this description, you should be able to determine that, try as I might, I spent the entire night speaking directly to my daughter’s navel. I kept expecting that damn mouth to move. “Mom!! HELLOOOO! I’m up here – talk to the HAT!” So, there we were… me and the baby ogre. Scanning the neighborhood for porch lights. I came to one immediate conclusion – we were in for a LOT of walking. What is it with people these days? Is it too much trouble to have a little fun with the kids just ONE night a year? In our area, more and more people are developing sudden “commitments” that preclude them from being home between the hours of … ohhhh … 5:30 and 7:30 p.m. on Halloween. You know for a fact that the majority of them are cowering in their basement or, quite possibly, eating mac and cheese in the bathtub by candlelight JUST to avoid the appearance that they are TOO CHEAP to give out candy. Hey, I know it’s not really cheap. For what it cost me to make 100 treat bags, our family of four could have had dinner at a nice restaurant. But you know what? That same amount of money can make a whole lot of kids happy – and that’s worth more than one dinner. Anyway, back to me and the baby ogre. We had a grand ole time. We talked about everything and nothing, gushed over the cute little kids, and generally enjoyed each other’s company. AND we laughed. We laughed at the lady who gave out sodas at her house. Baby Ogre went up to the door and the lady stepped out onto the porch and asked my daughter’s navel, “Ya want cola or orange?” Her bewildered hat replied something along the lines of “uhhh… um… cola????” We laughed at the lady who was wandering around her front lawn in a HUGE cow costume. She was all teats that woman! I’m sure every breastfed infant within a five-mile radius was salivating. Anyway, Cow Lady came barrelling down her sloped lawn in the direction of Baby Ogre. I admit, my mind was sensing a trainwreck – or at the very least “udder disaster.” But, much to Cow Lady’s credit, she stuck a good hind hoof halt right at the curb and neatly deposited a treat into Baby Ogre’s bag. Cow Lady asked me if a lot of houses further along her street had their lights on. I told her “Maybe 3 or 4” and she was visibly annoyed. Can’t blame her. If I had the nerve to parade my teats around the neighborhood, I’d probably appreciate an audience too. As we walked away giggling, making our way through another Halloween, Baby Ogre’s hat shook slowly side to side and was heard to mutter, “I may… never… drink milk… again.”