For the love of individually wrapped tiny candy bars… can Halloween just be OVER already?
I really can’t stand this holiday. Is it even a holiday? Eh, perhaps that is a matter of opinion. And my opinion is that I hate it.
Do I have a religious objection to it? Not at all. In fact, the only time I will defend this monster of a commercialized, stupid celebration is if someone tries to ban it for religious reasons. Sorry. I am a firm believer that everyone should be entitled to worship how they choose… but I also believe that the beliefs of one person should not infringe on those of another.
Am I opposed to the mass quantities of chocolate and processed sugar our kids consume because of the holiday? Again, no. Yes, yes… I know that sugar is the devil and that obesity is ruining our country. In fact, I am that terrible, horrible, no good mother who puts pretzels and erasers in plastic pumpkins when those adorable little kiddos come a-knockin. But mostly, that is because obesity has already ruined my girlish figure… and I don’t need 12 bags of kit-kat bars adding to the cellulite on my thighs. This pumpkin pie is doing the trick all on it’s own.
Also… did I mention that I hate Halloween? I have no problem admitting that my grumpy attitude towards the day makes me petty. I am not buying Reese's cups and Snickers for children for whom I do not have a c-section scar. I mean, if the kids are really cute… I will throw in a Dum Dum lollipop. But if you are a teenager wearing a tee shirt and jeans and carrying a pillow case? You get an eraser. Sorry.
Did an unpleasant experience in my past make me uncomfortable about the day? Not that I can recall. In fact, I remember enjoying Halloween as a kid… really, what is not to love? You get to dress up, stay up late and get a ton of candy! When I was in college I even enjoyed dressing up. So, yes. I hate it… even though I selfishly gained pleasure from it in my younger years.
Am I just a fun-sponge, as certain members of my family who will remain nameless but who live in my house and are not currently potty training, have suggested? No. I am loads of fun. Ask anyone. Except anyone who has ever tried to get me to put ghosts and skeletons in my yard, or wanted me to help plan a haunted house, or get all dressed up as an adult in some ridiculous costume.
So why the deep-seated hatred?
There are plenty of things in life that I do not understand… but I don’t hate. Lots. I won’t make a list here; I figure I have already pissed off enough people who are now feverishly typing responses to my suggestion that this non-holiday is “stupid”, or that I should be ashamed for not being concerned about American youth getting fat on sugar, think religion shouldn’t stand in the way of what others want, and that I am discriminating against teenagers for their choice of free-candy sack.
Do I have a religious objection to it? Not at all. In fact, the only time I will defend this monster of a commercialized, stupid celebration is if someone tries to ban it for religious reasons. Sorry. I am a firm believer that everyone should be entitled to worship how they choose… but I also believe that the beliefs of one person should not infringe on those of another.
Am I opposed to the mass quantities of chocolate and processed sugar our kids consume because of the holiday? Again, no. Yes, yes… I know that sugar is the devil and that obesity is ruining our country. In fact, I am that terrible, horrible, no good mother who puts pretzels and erasers in plastic pumpkins when those adorable little kiddos come a-knockin. But mostly, that is because obesity has already ruined my girlish figure… and I don’t need 12 bags of kit-kat bars adding to the cellulite on my thighs. This pumpkin pie is doing the trick all on it’s own.
Also… did I mention that I hate Halloween? I have no problem admitting that my grumpy attitude towards the day makes me petty. I am not buying Reese's cups and Snickers for children for whom I do not have a c-section scar. I mean, if the kids are really cute… I will throw in a Dum Dum lollipop. But if you are a teenager wearing a tee shirt and jeans and carrying a pillow case? You get an eraser. Sorry.
Did an unpleasant experience in my past make me uncomfortable about the day? Not that I can recall. In fact, I remember enjoying Halloween as a kid… really, what is not to love? You get to dress up, stay up late and get a ton of candy! When I was in college I even enjoyed dressing up. So, yes. I hate it… even though I selfishly gained pleasure from it in my younger years.
Am I just a fun-sponge, as certain members of my family who will remain nameless but who live in my house and are not currently potty training, have suggested? No. I am loads of fun. Ask anyone. Except anyone who has ever tried to get me to put ghosts and skeletons in my yard, or wanted me to help plan a haunted house, or get all dressed up as an adult in some ridiculous costume.
So why the deep-seated hatred?
There are plenty of things in life that I do not understand… but I don’t hate. Lots. I won’t make a list here; I figure I have already pissed off enough people who are now feverishly typing responses to my suggestion that this non-holiday is “stupid”, or that I should be ashamed for not being concerned about American youth getting fat on sugar, think religion shouldn’t stand in the way of what others want, and that I am discriminating against teenagers for their choice of free-candy sack.
If I have to walk down an aisle at Target and see another slutty Kermit the Frog costume, I might have to hurl my pumpkin spiced latte. | But I really, really don’t understand Halloween. Why in the world would any person want to decorate their yard with tombstones, ghosts, and cobwebs? I mean, for gracious sakes. Those things are completely ridiculous. Giant, inflatable, singing Santas? That is fine. But let’s not be ridiculous and have a screaming spider jump out when the UPS guy comes to bring a package. Sure, his shorts are already brown, but have some compassion. |
Why does anyone want to watch Freddy Krueger slice up another sorority girl? I almost punched my TV in the face the other day when I innocently turned it on to what I thought was the cooking channel and accidentally got a chainsaw pursuit instead. Come on! Too scary for this chick… I will stick to my shows about serial killers and a zombie apocalypse, thank you very much.
What is with the costumes? Okay, I will admit that a baby dressed as a pumpkin? Adorable. A toddler dressed as a pirate? Melt my heart. A 5 year old in an Elsa dress? Well… now I have a feeling we will all be sick of that by November 1st. But can’t we just have a “cute kid” day instead? Why are grown men dressing like slabs of bacon? Why are women squeezing themselves into 3 inches of fabric that is somehow a “sexy cop” get-up? And why would ANYONE paint their face so that is appears a werewolf snacked on their cheekbones for breakfast?
Folks, I just don’t get it. And it makes me grumpy. I am tired of seeing coffins in my neighborhood as I drive to drop off my kid for school. I mean, I haven’t even had any coffee yet and you want me to appreciate your vampire display? If I have to walk down an aisle at Target and see another slutty Kermit the Frog costume, I might have to hurl my pumpkin spiced latte. And if another person invites me to a Haunted something and then says “Come on, it’s fun!” when I say that I do not, in fact, want to attend… I might start setting up my ice-skating Christmas penguins right now.
I love fall, I love Thanksgiving, and I love Christmas. But Halloween? I just can’t get behind it. And, according to the completely non-scientific poll that I conducted on my Facebook this evening... I think there are many of us out there who agree. But, for some reason we are more comfortable admitting we kind of hated breast-feeding and secretly enjoy Justin Beiber's early work. It's okay, friends. You are not alone. We can hate it together. Pass the peanut butter cups, those little rugrats are not getting a single one!
And no… I will not dress up as a sponge with a grumpy face this year... as beautifully ironic as that would be, I just can't do it. I will be a sport, wear my witch hat (hell, it is really in character this time of year) and try to ignore the gore for a few more days... but I won't be happy about it. Now, here. Have an eraser and get off of my lawn. You are crowding my inflatable snoopy. Besides, Shemar Moore just took his shirt off to chase that guy that was sawing off women’s limbs.
I will be so glad when this ridiculous “holiday” is over for another year.
Many Kind Regards,
Erin
What is with the costumes? Okay, I will admit that a baby dressed as a pumpkin? Adorable. A toddler dressed as a pirate? Melt my heart. A 5 year old in an Elsa dress? Well… now I have a feeling we will all be sick of that by November 1st. But can’t we just have a “cute kid” day instead? Why are grown men dressing like slabs of bacon? Why are women squeezing themselves into 3 inches of fabric that is somehow a “sexy cop” get-up? And why would ANYONE paint their face so that is appears a werewolf snacked on their cheekbones for breakfast?
Folks, I just don’t get it. And it makes me grumpy. I am tired of seeing coffins in my neighborhood as I drive to drop off my kid for school. I mean, I haven’t even had any coffee yet and you want me to appreciate your vampire display? If I have to walk down an aisle at Target and see another slutty Kermit the Frog costume, I might have to hurl my pumpkin spiced latte. And if another person invites me to a Haunted something and then says “Come on, it’s fun!” when I say that I do not, in fact, want to attend… I might start setting up my ice-skating Christmas penguins right now.
I love fall, I love Thanksgiving, and I love Christmas. But Halloween? I just can’t get behind it. And, according to the completely non-scientific poll that I conducted on my Facebook this evening... I think there are many of us out there who agree. But, for some reason we are more comfortable admitting we kind of hated breast-feeding and secretly enjoy Justin Beiber's early work. It's okay, friends. You are not alone. We can hate it together. Pass the peanut butter cups, those little rugrats are not getting a single one!
And no… I will not dress up as a sponge with a grumpy face this year... as beautifully ironic as that would be, I just can't do it. I will be a sport, wear my witch hat (hell, it is really in character this time of year) and try to ignore the gore for a few more days... but I won't be happy about it. Now, here. Have an eraser and get off of my lawn. You are crowding my inflatable snoopy. Besides, Shemar Moore just took his shirt off to chase that guy that was sawing off women’s limbs.
I will be so glad when this ridiculous “holiday” is over for another year.
Many Kind Regards,
Erin
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