The first metaphysical act was the neighbourhood ghost lollipop hunt! Unfairly open only to the under-10s, every house makes five ghost lollies that are then hidden around our park before a hoard of ravenous princesses, super heroes, etc. are let loose. Pete - who doesn't even like lollies - was utterly enthralled by this idea, rugby-tackling fellow toddlers and continuing the search long after everyone else had got bored...and finding five more lollies for his effort. "He gets that from me," even Hannah had to admit.
Then, on the actual Eve of All Hallow's Day, I sat on my front step with dinner on my lap, my son dressed as a dinosaur, and handed out candy to the various pilgrims who came around, most impressively one entire Star Wars family. Pete's charitable manner meant he only wanted to give things away...until he realised the size of some of the candy hoards he was seeing, when he disappeared off to door-knock with Hannah. I was left alone with only a candle and a severed pumpkin head for company, and it's amazing how many trick-or-treaters gave me a wide berth. "Come closer, little children! I have delicious candy!" I implored, to no avail.
Dino-Pete reappeared and we shut the door for bedtime, with enough sweets to keep him sugar- and colouring-fueled until the next holiday (Thanksgiving!) Before then, I'll be using this helpful guide on what wine pairs best with your child's Halloween candy.
Scary monster.
Eyeing up the positions of the ghost lollipops and planning the most efficient route.
And they're off! Competitive much, my dear?
This is the prize. Spooky.
Like a swarm of lollipop-eating locusts.
All Hallow's Eve parade. A preponderance of princesses, as ever.
You wouldn't prefer an organic healthy fruit snack? No? Well, it is a festival.
