Smell my feet.
That’s what I feel like these kids are saying to me when they ring my doorbell, demanding candy, but have NO FUCKING COSTUME ON.
Now listen, it doesn’t have to be anything fancy. I don’t need to see a hundred dollar costume complete with every detail and accessory possible, but those sneakers with a white T-shirt ain’t cutting it.
If you don’t know, I’m a New York City Girl. As a kid, we were pretty poor, but that didn’t stop ME from tying a goddamn SCARF around my chest, putting on some baggy pants and rubber banding the bottoms in order to concoct some kind of Gypsy/Harem Girl costume…
And then, there was always the: Hobo Fallback Costume…
If you really don’t have any options, take your most trashed up clothes, trash ’em up some more, and don’t forget to rub some of mom’s brown eyeshadow on your face to simulate some real authentic looking street dirt (a coffee can with change makes a nice prop for this one…).
So what I’m saying here is, it’s not a MONEY thing…
It’s an EFFORT thing.
Now, I do MY part. I go to the annoying Halloween Candy section at the supermarket/drugstore/whatever and buy bags of candy for these little ones. I stand by the goddamn door waiting to hear my doorbell ring, and answer it promptly with treats in hand…..but I swear to God, if I open that door and a kid is standing there with a supermarket plastic bag in his hands, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, they’re gonna know what FEAR on HALLOWEEN, REALLY means. And furthermore, non-costume wearing Trick-orTreaters, DON’T EVEN ASK ME for extra candy for some made-up sick sibling. If one exists and they actually ARE sick, they shouldn’t be EATING CANDY anyway.
So, after I take my little ones out trick-or-treating (fully costumed) I will be waiting for the Trick-or-Treaters to come to me, but at least make a fucking mask out of a paper plate, either that, or be prepared to….
Be afraid … be very afraid.