H is for Hatred of Halloween

Fears, Writing

I was having trouble coming up with my “H” for the A to Z Challenge this week (Check out my original post here and let me know if you’ve accepted the challenge in the comments below so I can read your stuff!) so I thought I’d do a repost of this blog I wrote awhile ago about my hatred of Halloween. I know it’s not quite fall yet and no one wants to be thinking about those holidays, but… well, here goes anyway.

Originally posted 11/01/14

I hate Halloween.

I know many of you would think “Well, that makes sense since she’s a Christian and it isn’t really a Christian holiday”, but that’s not it.

It’s the masks.

I remember when I was younger, after a hardy night of my own trick-or-treating (which I also really didn’t enjoy. A suffocating mask, wigs that itched, and always wearing a coat due to the cold so you couldn’t see my costume anyway. Plus, my Dad always “checked” the candy for “razor blades” – in my adult years I understood it was just so he could have first pick of my candy…), these two ADULT people came into our home with masks on. My parents LET them into the house without knowing who they were. What other time does this occur except on Halloween? I mean, come on. Here were these two complete strangers standing in our kitchen while my parents tried to guess who they were. I thought they had gone insane, but they were getting a total kick out of it. The masked weirdos didn’t say a word – they would just shake their heads yes or no.

“Do we know you?” Yes nod.
“Are you friends?” Yes nod. (THANK GOD)
“Are you related?” No nod.

On and on it went until my Dad finally guessed Larry and Gerry – our next door neighbors – and he was right. They laughed about it as they stripped off their creepy masks.

What the heck!?! My little ten-year-old mind couldn’t wrap itself around this odd tradition. Totally creepy.

Today scores of young people invade our town begging for candy in their ghastly costumes and I hide in my house. It’s just not right. When we first got married my husband couldn’t wait to hand out candy to all the little beggars. I sat mutely beside him on the porch with a scowl better than any mask could create. I mean, this people could be scoping out our home for a late night invasion and I wouldn’t even be able to identify them! And we gave them candy to boot!!

I’m sure I scared quite a few youngsters with my tight-faced frown, but they have no shame. Some came back around for seconds.

“Hey. Didn’t you come by here about 20 minutes ago? No? Hmm…”

It’s the single weirdest holiday out there in my opinion. Some people think it’s weird for a bunny to lay eggs… I think it’s weird to give candy to masked children who’s parents will later come back to rob you.

But that’s just me.


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