The Sweetest Treat
Last night may have been the most fun Halloween I have had since my Athens, Ohio days. For starters, I was at home for the festivities instead of in Orlando. We decorated the house with purple lights and spider web lights and bought gobs of candy.
At long last, we live in a neighborhood that is crawling with kids on Halloween night, remniscient of any movie rendition of the holiday. Last night, there were decorations everywhere, lots of lights on and kids roaming the neighborhood in packs. Many adults were parked on their steps with glasses of wine, doling out goodies and scoping out costumes (note to self for next year!), and it felt very idyllic. I loved it.
But mostly, it felt good just to be with my family, especially with Petunia. At age three, she finally truly gets Halloween. She has been excited about her costume for weeks, and she has been loving all the lights, pumpkins, spider webs and costumes on display in our neighborhood or on any shopping trip. When we were in the party store one night, she was not the least bit freaked about the gory, adult-sized zombie-doctor costume on a mannequin. She liked it. I think she has the October thing in her blood.
Petunia was the most adorable Mary Poppins you've ever seen. We kind of white-trash made her costume with separates we purchased from TJ Maxx (skirt, shirt and blazer) and some craft supplies (red bow tie, dressing up a plain black hat we found while shopping). She carried an adult-sized black umbrella with a wooden handle and a purple quilted trick or treat bag. Petunia also asked specifically for rosy cheeks, so I obliged with blush applied liberally.
She was the cutest thing out there. In a sea of store-bought princess dresses, my little nanny inspired coo's and compliments from almost every house she visited. At random doorsteps, when I would remind her to say 'Trick or treat' when someone answered and 'Thank you' when they gave candy, Petunia would just look at me and say, 'I going to sing Spoonful of Sugar.'
With her ruddy little cheeks and black hat perched precariously on her head, she would pound her tiny fists against the door and then start singing quietly, 'Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.' And my heart just melted into the gutters at the sight of her, so confident and yet so small, singing quietly while an adult inside opened the door and looked down to see her standing there. I don't think that most of the adults who were treated to the most precious Halloween sight ever even realized that she was singing or what she was singing. But she did it. She was Mary Poppins to a tee.
Petunia also took great delight in handing out candy to the neighborhood kids before and after her own trick or treating time. At the end of the night, she stood by the bowl and asked one little girl, 'What do you want?' She held out a couple of different kinds of sweets to give the girl a good look. She yelled 'Happy halloween!' down the stairs at everyone who paid a visit to our house.
At the end of the night, she pored over her own candy to choose which three pieces she wanted to have for her treat. She picked a Kit-Kat, some Milk Duds and candy corn. She was very pleased with these and with how much candy was still in her treat bag after making her choices.
My only regret is that I did not take the camera trick or treating with us. But perhaps it's for the best as sometimes the pictures don't come out the way you see the image, and I will forever have one composite memory from Halloween 2006 burned into my brain: Petunia, with her umbrella in one hand and holding either handle of her treat bag with both hands, coming slowly but sure-footedly down the brick steps of a neighbor's house, pleased with her latest haul but laser-beam focused on the next stop. I will remember her as being so little compared to the big, bounding elementary and middle-school aged children going at a much faster pace around her, yet so independent and grown-up handling her accessories while navigating those stairs all by herself.
She felt still like my baby but very much like a little girl, and was - like Mary Poppins herself - 'practically perfect in every way.'
At long last, we live in a neighborhood that is crawling with kids on Halloween night, remniscient of any movie rendition of the holiday. Last night, there were decorations everywhere, lots of lights on and kids roaming the neighborhood in packs. Many adults were parked on their steps with glasses of wine, doling out goodies and scoping out costumes (note to self for next year!), and it felt very idyllic. I loved it.
But mostly, it felt good just to be with my family, especially with Petunia. At age three, she finally truly gets Halloween. She has been excited about her costume for weeks, and she has been loving all the lights, pumpkins, spider webs and costumes on display in our neighborhood or on any shopping trip. When we were in the party store one night, she was not the least bit freaked about the gory, adult-sized zombie-doctor costume on a mannequin. She liked it. I think she has the October thing in her blood.
Petunia was the most adorable Mary Poppins you've ever seen. We kind of white-trash made her costume with separates we purchased from TJ Maxx (skirt, shirt and blazer) and some craft supplies (red bow tie, dressing up a plain black hat we found while shopping). She carried an adult-sized black umbrella with a wooden handle and a purple quilted trick or treat bag. Petunia also asked specifically for rosy cheeks, so I obliged with blush applied liberally.
She was the cutest thing out there. In a sea of store-bought princess dresses, my little nanny inspired coo's and compliments from almost every house she visited. At random doorsteps, when I would remind her to say 'Trick or treat' when someone answered and 'Thank you' when they gave candy, Petunia would just look at me and say, 'I going to sing Spoonful of Sugar.'
With her ruddy little cheeks and black hat perched precariously on her head, she would pound her tiny fists against the door and then start singing quietly, 'Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.' And my heart just melted into the gutters at the sight of her, so confident and yet so small, singing quietly while an adult inside opened the door and looked down to see her standing there. I don't think that most of the adults who were treated to the most precious Halloween sight ever even realized that she was singing or what she was singing. But she did it. She was Mary Poppins to a tee.
Petunia also took great delight in handing out candy to the neighborhood kids before and after her own trick or treating time. At the end of the night, she stood by the bowl and asked one little girl, 'What do you want?' She held out a couple of different kinds of sweets to give the girl a good look. She yelled 'Happy halloween!' down the stairs at everyone who paid a visit to our house.
At the end of the night, she pored over her own candy to choose which three pieces she wanted to have for her treat. She picked a Kit-Kat, some Milk Duds and candy corn. She was very pleased with these and with how much candy was still in her treat bag after making her choices.
My only regret is that I did not take the camera trick or treating with us. But perhaps it's for the best as sometimes the pictures don't come out the way you see the image, and I will forever have one composite memory from Halloween 2006 burned into my brain: Petunia, with her umbrella in one hand and holding either handle of her treat bag with both hands, coming slowly but sure-footedly down the brick steps of a neighbor's house, pleased with her latest haul but laser-beam focused on the next stop. I will remember her as being so little compared to the big, bounding elementary and middle-school aged children going at a much faster pace around her, yet so independent and grown-up handling her accessories while navigating those stairs all by herself.
She felt still like my baby but very much like a little girl, and was - like Mary Poppins herself - 'practically perfect in every way.'
posted by merseydotes @ 12:06 PM
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