He's crazy about hockey, so I was kind of leaning toward Alex Ovechkin. We have a jersey and a stick making it a convenient choice. "Why not a rock star?" I asked, since it was just last summer that he was asking me to take pictures of him with sunglasses and an electric guitar. But he was pushing for something scary this year. It is Halloween, after all.
Our neighbors have had their pumpkins for a few weeks now. Each time I look across the street, actually, there's a new addition to display of happy holiday enthusiasm. First it was a skeleton flag flapping in the breeze, and yesterday it was spiderwebs connecting the porch to the bushes. Today, it's a glowing cauldron, impossible to miss as we drive up after dark.
Standing between two crowded aisles in the dark, unglamorous Halloween shop, open only one month a year, he debated between the Scream and Lord Voldemort. Both were equally menacing, and I couldn't imagine him wearing either one to his elementary school Halloween parade. "Aren't you worried about scaring the first graders?"
"Mom," he insisted, "there are going to be some scary kindergartners." I had a tough time believing him, but I gave in when he finally chose Lord Voldemort. At least he chose a literary character, I thought in attempts to console myself.
Instead of going for the pre-packaged costumes, he pieced together a black cloak, rubber snakes (the largest one named Nagini), a twig from the yard for a wand, and a photo of the Dark Lord/Tom Riddle on opposite sides of a piece of cardboard to hold in front of his hooded face. When I went in to school today to help the kids pull on their costumes (the mayhem and excitement required a number of adults to supervise), he posed for a picture next to the Joker. His hair-sprayed green hair, chalky face paint, and a gash of red across his mouth made this young boy as creepy as Heath Ledger in the Dark Knight. No one around them appeared afraid.
This evening, we all pulled up after dark to our unadorned house. Instead of unpacking I put the car in reverse for one more errand. On our way to the lot doing a nice business up the road, I spotted hay bails in a church parking lot. Not a soul in sight, a sign indicated that they had closed shop for the season, but that they'd take donations in the metal box. With only a ten dollar bill, we loaded up the car with four extra-large pumpkins, and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his big brother positioned them nicely on our front steps.
Happy Halloween.
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