I survived my test. It was worse than I could have imagined.But, I survived.
Starting to feel a little bit normal now. Never made it to TH’s for that biscuit. Couldn’t have eaten a thing. When I got home I put on a pot of coffee and waited a little bit before scrambling some eggs and having a piece of toast. Ate it only because I didn’t think 3 days of fasting would be a good thing.
Had a sleep this afternoon and I’m feeling considerably better.
Soon, the kids will be ringing the doorbell in the annual trick or treating extravaganza that Halloween is here in North America.
I am not a fan of Halloween. Never was. But, when my son was young I was a good sport and decorated the house and got made up (usually as a witch) to hand out candy or take him out to get his share. Even as a kid myself, Halloween was not a time that I generally enjoyed. Sure, getting the candy was okay, but really, I didn’t care that much.
Partly, I guess, because when we go home with it my father would rifle through it and take all the good stuff. Well, maybe not all of it, but some for sure. I hated that he got to lay claim to my booty before I did. Now, I look back on that and shake my head at the snotty little brat I was. I still would be left with this half-full pillowcase of candy, most of which I wouldn’t even eat. My mother would eventually transfer our stash into jars or bowls up on the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard and eventually, we’d forget it was there. How much ended up in the garbage I wonder?
Years later, I would repeat this exercise with my own son. He’d go on a binge for a few days, and then I’d tell him I was putting it up so it would be safe. Out of sight, out of mind. There were times when I’d catch him scaling the cupboards to get at his loot, but for the most part he just stopped thinking about it. Especially once all the really ‘good’ stuff was gone.
My rambling point about this is that I’ve never been keen on this door to door begging of candy. It goes against everything we try to teach our kids — about not trusting strangers, about eating sensibly, about being selfish and gluttonous. And yet. . .
. . . once a year we think it’s totally acceptable to spend ungodly amounts on costumes, to paint their little faces or hide them behind masks, to allow them to wander the streets and curry favour from complete strangers for a handful of candy, to let them eat mitts full of candy before bedtime and then take more of it to school with them the next day. We will put up with bad behaviour associated with too much sugar and a lack of sleep all so they can have fun.
I’m as guilty as the next guy for taking part in this ‘tradition.’ And I continue to perpetuate it with my grandkids. Just this afternoon I called them and wished them a Happy Halloween and told them I hoped they got lots of candy. To not do so would make me be the weird Gramma. Besides, their parents are sensible and won’t allow them to stay out to long (they’ll be with them, of course) and they’ll monitor closely how much candy they’re getting.
But in a couple of more years, the kids will be old enough to go out on their own and then?
There are kids I know, who are 13, 14 and 15 years of age who still go out trick or treating. God, my own son was still doing it at 14. Against my wishes, I might add.
So, what’s the point of this rambling diatribe? I don’t really know, other than Halloween disturbs me. Other than jack o’ lanterns. They’re pretty cool. Oh, and scary movies. Kind of enjoy those, too.
Happy haunting.
All That Matters 