The end of October is here. Halloween is tomorrow. It is not my favorite holiday. My grandkids love Halloween. I never understood what was so great about it.
As a child I did trick or treat. I lived in a neighborhood with about a dozen homes. We donned our best costumes—always wore a mask—because I wanted to fool my neighbors. They had to guess who I was. I find it funny today to think I had them fooled. There was only one little girl on the street with brown curly hair and big brown eyes! These neighbors gave the best treats—full size Hersey bars or boxes of Cracker Jacks.
One year my cousins talked me into trick or treating with them. They lived in an area with many, many small homes. In fact, the majority of these homes (in Jefferson Barracks, for those of you who know the area) were built by my dad. I gave in and went with them. By this time, my older sisters were not interested in trick or treating, so it gave me someone to go with. I remember I dressed as an old lady. The dime store sold a wig of gray hair in a bun, and I wore one of my mom’s house dresses. How many of you know what a house dress is? I also wore a pair of her old wedgie shoes, which back then were not stylish, although wedges came stylish decades later! I walked with my cousins to all these home, ended up with blisters on my feet and a bag full of penny candy. I like the dozen homes with quality treats! I guess I’m about quality over quantity! Ha!
Fast forward to this past decade. When I married Dennis in 2013, I moved into his large home in Fulton, Missouri. Although he was the only one living in the home, his son’s bedroom still had a lot of his stuff there. One of the items was a skeleton used by medical students. It was about four feet tall. Yes, we actually had a skeleton in the closet.
Now that these rooms were guest rooms, I always let guests know not to be surprised to what they find in the closet. My granddaughters, Niki and Ali, along with my grandson, Jack, many times came to spend weekends with us. They loved this skeleton, pulled him out of the closet, and brought him throughout the house with them (the stand he was on had wheels for easy transport).
The kids lovingly named the skeleton Larry. Larry has celebrated Christmas with us. He celebrated the St. Louis Cardinals playoffs and World Series.
Larry has had breakfast with the kids, and helped Ali do her home work. He has also been involved in baking adventures with the kids.
Larry is gone now. When we downsized, we returned Larry to his original owner. It was a sad farewell. The grandkids were growing older. They had part time jobs while going to high school. They were involved in school plays and orchestra concerts. Larry was on the back shelf by then. Now Jack and Niki are in college, and Ali in her last year of high school.
When I go through my photos, I love seeing all the fun we had making Larry part of our lives.
I’m still not a fan of Halloween. Kids don’t sing songs and tell jokes anymore. They just knock on the door and want to be handed candy. Not my deal.
I know a lot of you out there still love the costumes, the cute little kids knocking on your door, the parties, and of course, the leftover candy if one over-purchased! To you I say, HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
I love that picture of you. So ’50s! And you had the most beautiful eyes. Still do.
I have never been much of a Halloween person either. We weren’t very creative with costumes, and we usually needed to have at least a jacket on, which spoiled the effect. And I really can remember dressing up only three times, once as a hobo, once as a skeleton (cheap costume purchased from Woolworth’s), and once as a little Dutch girl. Mom made Barb and me matching costumes, and they were cute. Now, everyone claims that we looked like Pilgrims, but the intent was Dutch girls.
I have bought one small sack of Milky Way bars, and I doubt that I even have to open it. Haven’t had any trick-or-treaters in several years. There are no children on my block, and parents (wisely) aren’t letting their kids go to the homes of strangers any longer. The days of Halloween as depicted in “Meet Me in St. Louis” are long gone. Perhaps for the best. I don’t want Tootie throwing flour in my face.
I remember a few memorable costumes, but in those days, taking photos was expensive, so there are none. They probably wouldn’t look as good as my memory and imagination has of them. 😊