Saturday, 29 October 2011


My family's true feelings about Hallowe'en
We're going to a Hallowe'en Party tonight. My brother-in-law got married 25 years ago, so it's a spooky silver wedding shindig.

Having failed miserably to sort out costumes in advance,  we've come up with a frankly poor effort, which is basically my husband and I both donning his hi-vis work uniform (he works on the motorways) and slapping on a spot of zombie make up. It could also involve a few judicious felt-tipped tyre-prints across our faces and backs, and maybe the word 'Roadkill' inked on. Drink may be taken, and some moaning, groaning, and stumbling about with our arms outstretched may occur. This last part is no different from most Saturday nights, to be honest.

My daughter, who LOVES Hallowe'en, is wearing a cool, black skeleton dress with neon pink bones on it. My son, who is really not so keen, also has a skeleton outfit. I reckon he'll probably keep the mask on, but ditch the clothes and run round in his nappy, growling, which again, is fairly standard behaviour.

It's great that my 13-year-old girl is excited about dressing up for Hallowe'en. About 'bobbing for apples' (although her version of the game should be renamed 'eating apples'). It's the same with Christmas, Easter, or any other holiday or event that involves games and stories and make-believe (apologies to the religious amongst you, for challenging the veracity of the virgin birth, but come on, really...)*
*Sorry, Mum.

Because of a tiny missing strip on one tiny chromosome, my daughter's childhood has been extended. I don't know how long for. She is growing up, but I don't know how 'grown-up' she'll eventually be. In the meantime, we'll take delight in her delight at childlike things.

Yep. Loves it.

Video is Monster Mash by the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band

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