There was a time in my not too distant past when the very prospect of kids Trick or Treating on Halloween would have had me angrily shouting about American cultural imperialism.
Maybe I’m mellowing. This past weekend the Bentleigh Shopping Centre organised a Halloween dress-up. Many participated, including my own children (though I didn’t organise it). Jeremy dressed up as a pirate. Isaac was a Dementor from Harry Potter, though the weather was warm and his all-over face mask was made of thin material through which some of his hair poked, making him a somewhat sweaty, hairy Dementor.
And earlier tonight, which is after all your actual Halloween, there was a knock at the door, and two kids dressed in costume presented themselves and proclaimed “Trick or treat!”
Did somebody tell them about my secret Freddo Frog stash or something?
Perhaps it’s just that kind of neighbourhood where the kids roam the street on Halloween. I didn’t spot their parents lurking nearby, but maybe they were crouching behind the bushes keeping an eye on things.
At least their proclamation wasn’t in an annoying or demanding tone. So I got them each a Freddo and sent them on their way.