All-time favorite costume: Snow White, sewn by both my grandmothers when I was four. One grandma may be reading this from her celestial perch even as I type, for all I know, and the other will see it tomorrow, when she heads to the computer room of her senior home and checks her email. Hi, Grandmas!!!! Thank you again for making me such a beautiful costume!This year, I dressed up as an angel and Mr. A was a witch. It was his second Halloween in disguise, after growing up without such merriment in Europe and then Canada.
We were invited to A&K's for a ghoulish potluck. Mr. A got there a little late, since he had a long day at work, so I left the party to help him find parking. As we walked back, we spotted them: Two trick or treaters! With bulging bags of candy. Leading the way.
"We should go trick or treating before we get to their house!" I suggested.
"No."
"It's an American tradition," I pressed. "All the kids do it. Don't you want to try it, once in your life? We're not too old!"
We ended up following the kids to the lit doorway and climbing the apartment steps with them. Only they didn't knock on the door. They opened it and walked in. And they weren't kids. They were petite adults. Headed to a party."Trick or treat?" I yelped behind them.
"We don't have any candy," the man said, as a few people standing around him looked out to see what the commotion was.
Mr. A turned around and bolted. I wasn't far behind.
"Holidays are way cooler in my country," he later informed me. "We go door to door singing Christmas carols and receive sweets."
"Carols? Please. In this country we get candy on Halloween just for being cute."
"Right."
Gained: A botched attempt at giving my Euro boyfriend an All-American Halloween. There's always next year. Mu ha ha ha!
