The Homefront: Taking candy from strangers is OK once a year
D. Louise Brown
As strange as it may seem to adults, imagine how weird Halloween appears to a little kid.
Especially when compared to other holidays. Like Thanksgiving. The pilgrims came to America, they had a good year, harvested a lot of food, and invited neighbors in for a big feast to Give Thanks. That’s a story even a three-year-old can comprehend.
Or Valentine’s Day. It’s a day we celebrate our love for others. We give out candy and flowers and cards. On this one day of the year, we tell each other we love each other. Most little kids will like that, especially the candy part.
There’s the 4th of July. Those pilgrims who came to America and set the stage for Thanksgiving eventually outgrew being parented by England, declared independence, and one revolutionary war later, achieved it. Adults understand that part. To children, the day means a picnic in the park, a little flag to wave, and a glorious parade with candy thrown at their feet. The evening ends with fireworks. What’s not to love about that holiday to a kid?
And then, of course, there’s Christmas — the duo holiday — where we celebrate the birth of a humble little baby and the biggest gift haul of the year. For a little kid this boils down to singing songs about a baby boy and Santa Claus coming to town. Bravo to the kid who can construct that into something that makes sense (Many adults can’t). Basically, most kids understand that Santa is coming, they’d better be good at least until then, and Christmas morning can’t get here fast enough. The entire month of December is one big party, and they can feel it, even if they can’t quite make sense of it.
And then … then there’s Halloween.
No matter how hard a parent tries, you just can’t quite explain Halloween to a small child in a way that makes much sense. There’s the scary part — the ghosts, skeletons, witches, spiders, monsters — all that awful, sometimes more-than-necessary-gruesomeness playing out not only in store displays and ads but right there on the neighbor’s front lawn. More than one little kid has been scared half witless just walking past a graveyard scene of skeletal dismemberment. How do you explain that?
There’s the practice of gutting and carving pumpkins. Sure, it looks fun, even if it is yucky. Then a candle goes inside and it sits all lit up on the front porch. How strange must that seem to a little kid. Especially when you throw it in the garbage can a few days later.
Then there are the costumes. The littler the kid, the more fun they are to dress up. Some of the best costumes ever made have been modeled by little kids at my front door. Who knew empty 2-liter bottles covered in duct tape are just the right size for a miniature underwater diver’s oxygen tanks?
Meanwhile, that little kid has no clue why he has pop bottles strapped to his back. He just knows that for some bizarre reason his parents are urging him to walk up to a completely unfamiliar house, knock on the door, wait for someone to answer, and then take candy from a total stranger. Part of him is wondering, “Hey, wait a minute. Isn’t this what I’ve always been told NOT to do?” while the other part of him is saying, “Oh, Yeah! Bring it on! Yes, I am cute, and yes, I want more!”
The real downer for little kids happens when they haul that plastic pumpkin of yummy goodness home and learn the next step is not sitting down and eating it. Instead, it’s time to go to bed because it’s already way past bedtime. “Wait. What? I just walked for hours past horrible decorations out there, jockeyed at doors with other kids dressed like zombies and princesses, and now I’m supposed to leave my candy with my dad, put all that terrifying stuff I just saw behind me, and go to sleep? Are you kidding me?”
Actually, though, Halloween can be a useful parenting tool in your kid’s progression. If he can trust you enough to believe all that Halloween weirdness is okay, he will believe anything you tell him.
So embrace the craziness of Halloween with your kids.
Especially the little ones.

