Memory Mondays: Halloween Edition
Welcome back to "Memory Mondays!" Please feel free to join in and create your own "Memory Mondays" post. I'd love to read it, so comment on this posting with a link to your blog :)
I remember what Halloween night was like when I was a child. After my mom picked me & my sister up from school, we would go home and immediately dress up for Trick or Treating. My aunt would often bring my cousin over so we could all Trick or Treat together. My sister and cousin were the same age and often wore similar costumes. They would be beautiful princesses and I would somehow end up as a witch or a monster. (I think the psychological effects of this are currently manifested in my obsession with Disney princesses.)
I remember picking up my grandma from her house a couple of blocks away, shutting off her lights, and bringing her to our house so that she could join us for the evening and celebrate Halloween with her grandchildren. Looking back, I am so happy that she spent as much time with us as she did.
I remember having to wear a garbage bag or winter coat (depending on the year) to combat the unpredictable upstate-NY weather. I remember the house that would give us a full-sized candy bar (score!) and the neighbor who handed out canned goods with the label removed (which we always found to be hysterically funny).
I remember the year that my parents got divorced and, as we returned to the house from Trick or Treating, my pumpkin was being smashed by a bratty neighborhood teenager. My aunt, in a fit of protective rage, got in her car and yelled after the pumpkin-smasher - "THOSE ARE MY NIECES' PUMPKINS! GET BACK HERE!!!"
I remember the excitement of returning home and dumping out the contents of our pumpkin-shaped baskets so that we could properly sift through and decide which candy was worthy of immediate ingestion (and my parent's could make sure that none of the candy appeared to have been "tampered with").
I remember the innocent joy of pretending to be someone else (even if it was a witch or a monster) and spending the chilly evening amid family, festive decorations, and lots of candy :)
I remember what Halloween night was like when I was a child. After my mom picked me & my sister up from school, we would go home and immediately dress up for Trick or Treating. My aunt would often bring my cousin over so we could all Trick or Treat together. My sister and cousin were the same age and often wore similar costumes. They would be beautiful princesses and I would somehow end up as a witch or a monster. (I think the psychological effects of this are currently manifested in my obsession with Disney princesses.)
I remember picking up my grandma from her house a couple of blocks away, shutting off her lights, and bringing her to our house so that she could join us for the evening and celebrate Halloween with her grandchildren. Looking back, I am so happy that she spent as much time with us as she did.
I remember having to wear a garbage bag or winter coat (depending on the year) to combat the unpredictable upstate-NY weather. I remember the house that would give us a full-sized candy bar (score!) and the neighbor who handed out canned goods with the label removed (which we always found to be hysterically funny).
I remember the year that my parents got divorced and, as we returned to the house from Trick or Treating, my pumpkin was being smashed by a bratty neighborhood teenager. My aunt, in a fit of protective rage, got in her car and yelled after the pumpkin-smasher - "THOSE ARE MY NIECES' PUMPKINS! GET BACK HERE!!!"
I remember the excitement of returning home and dumping out the contents of our pumpkin-shaped baskets so that we could properly sift through and decide which candy was worthy of immediate ingestion (and my parent's could make sure that none of the candy appeared to have been "tampered with").
I remember the innocent joy of pretending to be someone else (even if it was a witch or a monster) and spending the chilly evening amid family, festive decorations, and lots of candy :)
Comments
Post a Comment