Halloween Horrors

I fucking hate Halloween.  Hugely.  I see no point whatsoever in applauding evil spirits and paganism and I feel we have caught the Halloween fever from America and the media have made it nearly as commercial as Christmas.

We managed to get through until about 2pm today before Zak even realised it was Halloween.  "Happy Halloween" said some small-minded broadcaster on our car radio and suddenly the game was up.  Since when did people wish each other "Happy Halloween" anyway?!  I thought the whole bloody point of the 'festival' was that it was distinctly unhappy; evil in fact.

Eagle-ears in the backseat then demanded that we began celebrating immediately as we had missed practically the whole day without doing anything.  I am SUCH a rubbish mother don't you know.  I relented and bought a box of bat biscuits from the garage to take over to the friends we were visiting.  Shuddup now child, don't say I never buy you anything.

Stu is going to sneak Zak-the-Incredible-Hulk out trick-or-treating in our road while Sebi is none-the-wiser-in-the-bath.  I don't want any part of it though.  I think trick-or-treating is basically begging and Zak needs NO encouragement to beg for food.  As a toddler we had many an unhappy encounter in parks when I would temporarily lose Zak and find him standing on top of another family who had snacks.  Invariably the cute smiley two-year-old was given some of whatever was being eaten, thus teaching him that it was OK and so the painful cycle continued.

I also don't want my evening disrupted by begging children.  I'm going to put a notice on the door saying "Please help yourself to a sweet below and don't ring the doorbell."  The hounds of hell better be ready to back-up any goblin or wizard that ignores this and disturbs this grumpy old witch.

So why do I bother at all?  Surely if I object that much then I should just unplug the doorbell and sulk into my glass of wine?  Maybe the nasty memories of my car being egged by some toe-rag I used to teach many moons ago are haunting me?  Perhaps I give a shit about what the neighbouring parents would say?  Or maybe I'm sucked into conforming in the same way that people who have no interest in Christianity cheerfully buy each other Christmas presents and chomp on Easter Eggs?  Dunno.  All I can say is roll on November and I never thought I would be saying that.