I am almost 100% serious.

Halloween is the Anti-Christmas. That statement can be interpreted two ways:  

1. Christmas is the celebration of the coming of Christ while Halloween is the celebration of all things devilish, even the antichrist.
2. Christmas is the best day ever, and on a scale of one-to-Christmas, (Christmas being infinity) Halloween consistently scores a negative-Christmas. (And you know, negative infinity is really not a lot.)

This blog post will solely address the second statement. I mean, I can see where the first statement is coming from, but whatever. Like, whatever.

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Halloween is one night every year that children are encouraged to go door to door begging for candy. Gluttony is literally forced upon kids.  Children who are afraid to wear costumes (that was me) are forced to dress up as butterflies (me, again). Children who love to dress up are forced into an unspoken competition which is generally won by the kid whose parents spend the most money on his costume. For an entire month, all the kiddie TV shows and classroom activities are themed with ghosts and skeletons and zombies. None of these things are worth celebrating. None of these things are worth fixing your mind upon.

When I was in 3rd, 4th, and 5th grades, my mother decided she didn't care for Halloween. My brother and sister and I were forbidden to go trick-or-treating. (You read it, the f-word: forbidden!) We stayed home and passed out candy to the other kids. We kept tally marks of the most common costumes and we became increasingly jealous with every Batman at our door.

I am certain at this point in my life I slung around some terrible words, like "You're the worst mom ever!" and "People who hate Halloween shouldn't be allowed to have children!" 

I would like to retract both of those statements. 

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In middle grades and high school, Halloween became more about trying to swindle as much free candy as possible, pretending to believe ghost stories, and venturing off to haunted houses. I am not a fan of getting sick to my stomach, wetting my pants, or wetting my pants.  No one is. Not one ounce of anything good comes out of Halloween night for teenagers. I suppose this is also the age when people can begin to be categorized as "hooligans," who smash pumpkins and play ding-dong-ditch, etc. Pumpkins should not be smashed and door bells should not be ditched. 

In tenth grade, I was friends with two German exchange students. We obviously had to go trick-or-treating together so they could see what the big fuss is about. Most of us in the group dressed up like silly things: a piñata, hippie, prom queen, disco ball... but the two German exchange students dressed up like terrifyingly spooky witches. We went door-to-door in the most affluent neighborhood because they would give the best candy. (Seriously? Who was I?) Every time a family answered their door, the two witches would yell with thick accents, "Trick or treat from Germany!" 

No one believed that they were actually from Germany.

***

Now as a college student, I find Halloween is pretty different. It's avoidable (yesss) but all the same disheartening. In stores, almost every single adult-sized costume for women is suggestive and revealing. Women who would otherwise wear more clothing are allowing the objectification of their bodies for just one night. 

Why? What is so special about Halloween that we're "allowed" to do this? Nothing. Nothing is special about Halloween. It's just an excuse. I suppose if you're really looking for an excuse, you don't need much of one. I am not saying that girls who wear little clothing on Halloween are trash. I am not saying that at all. I am merely wishing they would reevaluate their wardrobe choice and hold to the standards that they set for themselves 364 other nights of the year.  

I really don't mean to be so grouchy about it all. This year I tried to acknowledge the presence of Halloween. Paige and I placed two little pumpkins above our doorway.   But they rotted an entire week before Halloween.