Since having kids I’ve noticed a few major differences between the Halloween of today and the Halloween I remember.
But one of the things that most pains my Halloween-loving heart is the opposition some older trick-or-treaters face. Maybe I’m just remembering the Halloweens of my childhood through pumpkin-colored lenses, but it seemed like there was more tolerance for trick-or-treaters of all ages when I was a kid.
It’s true, some older kids don’t really get into the spirit of Halloween—instead of donning costumes, some teenagers simply wear a smirk, a bag, and a sense of entitlement.
But I don’t really get the outright hostility that some adults have toward older kids who just want to dress up and have some fun. “They’re too old for that!” cry the naysayers. Too old for what? Dressing outrageously, wandering around town at night, and eating junk food? Isn’t that what being a teenager is all about?
My teenaged nephew still gets excited about trick-or-treating. His costumes are elaborate and well-thought-out. And his gratitude for your hard-earned candy is far more heartfelt than my two-year-old’s. But this year, many of his friend’s parents are putting the nix on the treats and the tricks, so he’ll either have to find a troupe of smaller children to accompany him, or go out alone, into a world where many keepers of the candy will judge him not on the volume of his Halloween spirit, but the size of his shoes.
I feel for the teenaged would-be trick-or-treaters. By this point, most of them have given up on the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy, and Halloween is one of the last vestiges of childhood magic they’ve got left.
And it’s not like we grown-ups can claim we don’t long for Halloween fun, too. Adults still dress up, but we eat too much junk food and act like children at cocktail parties instead of going from door to door. We don’t want our teenaged kids throwing cocktail parties, so why not let—or even encourage—them to trick-or-treat?
Nobody wants to dole out candy to a sullen teen who looks like he couldn’t be bothered to dress up. I get it. But let’s just consider for a moment that the kid who shows up on your door with no costume might just be longing for a bit of that Halloween magic. Maybe he can’t quite bring himself to wear a costume in front of his friends. Maybe he’s just a brat. I don’t really care, frankly. I mean, the kids are asking me for a piece of candy, not a piece of my liver. What’s the big deal?
I’m hereby issuing an invitation: my house will be an equal-opportunity candy distributor this Halloween. If you show up at my door, you will get a treat, whether you’re two or twenty-two. Just a warning, though: no matter how old (or young) you are, I expect you to be nice to me.
Otherwise, I’ve got a special stash of pennies and
unwrapped Mary Janes, just for you.
--Meagan Francis is a parenting author and mom of four boys
with another on the way. She writes about parenthood and her life
at her blog.
