Republished from three years ago, when my oldest boy Tommy was only 14. He's 17 now and still hates Halloween...
Everyone loves Halloween. Everyone you’ve met. Everyone you’ve seen.
But not in our house high above Booville. The Halloween Grinch (my oldest son Tommy) is living there still.
He won’t wear a costume. He won’t trick or treat. He won’t even hand out candy to people he meets.
The Grinch hates Halloween - the whole Halloween season. Now, please don't ask why; no one quite knows the reason.
I’ve given up trying to figure it out. I’ve given up asking him what it’s about.
For though I’m the Grinch’s father, I have two more boys. They both love Halloween candy, and they both love Halloween toys.
They love wearing the costumes, and ringing the bell. And I always love going along as well. I love watching their joy as the candy goes plop, from the first house we visit until we finally stop. But because the Halloween Grinch is the one left at home, he won’t answer the door when he’s all alone. So we end up with candy that isn’t given away, and the next day I’m home with a candy buffet.
Last year I decided to put an end to that. There’s no need for Dad to get doughy and fat.
So I sent the Halloween Grinch to his room, and I manned the door beginning at noon. I was determined to hand out every Twix and KitKat, and I didn’t care what the Grinch said about that.
I sent the two younger boys out all alone, but before they left our little home, I made sure they knew to watch out for each other, as they trick or treated dressed as the Mario Brothers.
“OK, who can tell me what the buddy system is?”
Sean raised his hand. He was ready for this quiz.
“We have to stick together,” he said. His big brother nodded, and both of them fled.
“It will never work,” said the Grinch from his room. “Those two will just fight wearing those costumes.”
But for fifteen great minutes I handed out Twix, to all the Boos who wanted treats and tricks. Until one little boy dressed up as a Q-tip, had a paper mustache attached to his lip.
It looked very much like the ones I made that day, for the two little boys that I just sent away.
He told me he got it just down the street. It was lying on a driveway, on the concrete. Mario and Luigi had ripped off their stashes, in between punches, and lunges, and smashes. They were fighting over who got to ring the doorbell, and needless to say, it didn’t turn out too well.
I marched out to the sidewalk, and what did I see? Mario and Luigi coming home to me.
The two crying boys running on the asphalt, both were screaming “It was all his fault!”
While I broke up the fight happening on my front lawn, I looked at the window, and you know who I saw?
The Halloween Grinch.
In Booville they say that the Grinch's Halloween smile grew three sizes that day. With that smile on his face, he wandered our way, and he had a few things that he wanted to say.
“Next year, I volunteer to supervise, but I won’t wear a costume or a silly disguise. I still hate the concept of Halloween, but next year I’ll be over fourteen. That’s old enough not to have to participate, and as long as I don’t have to, everything will be great.”
I made the deal, and I’m looking forward to that.
It'll keep me away from the candy, so Dad won’t get fat.
