A Splendid Time

We went Trick or Treating for the first time tonight- or, as politically correct George preferred to call it, 'Happy Halloweening'. Much of the week has been spent in preparation for this event. Two pumpkins have been hollowed out (one went mouldy and had to be thrown away), a spider with pipe-cleaner legs made, flashing shoe decorations purchased, and a costume selected.

Today, we baked and iced Halloween biscuits; witch, pumpkin, bat and ghost. All resplendent with silver balls (yes, the innuendo WAS intentional).

Off we went at 5.30 as George thought it was the middle of the night because it was dark. A prearranged call started us off and then we got carried along in an excitable current of miniature devils, witches, skeletons and werewolves. George was dressed in last year's pumpkin costume (last year he didn't really 'get' Halloween, so it wasn't worn in anger) and carried a scary lantern. He had originally intended to wear a dracula cape as well, but decided against it at the last minute.

George got progressively more excited throughout the evening, as it dawned on him that lots of children were out after dark, in fancy dress, knocking on strangers' doors for sweets. Children were waving light sabres and flashing wands. Children were roaring, screeching, running about and shouting and best of all, children were doing all this and not getting told off .

Additionally, George was the smallest, and the only one dressed as a pumpkin, and therefore was getting the cute vote. We were knocking on doors and people were saying 'Aah...don't you look lovely', rather than screaming in terror. He is his mother's son, and took all the compliments in his stride, batted his eyelashes and forgot to be offended that no-one was scared of him. But he wouldn't take the sweets! He just loved the atmosphere, the costumes, and the village glittering like a giant Ghost Train, the houses all bedecked with flickering pumpkins, ghosts, glowing eyes, and paperchains.

I managed to catch hold of him long enough to get him indoors, and then we customarily lit our pumpkin in the front window to indicate willingness for Halloween Callers. George shrieked with joy at every knock, and opened the door with cries of 'Trick or Treat!!' which rather confused things, as he was the one INSIDE the house.

The biscuits went down a storm. Darth Vader had to hand his light sabre to his mum so he could choose a bat shaped one, and a Werewolf had such long, rubbery claws that he had to be assisted in picking his biscuit up. All the vile green, orange and black icing was consumed by the undead hoards in such quantities that there were no biscuits for the final visiting coven, who had to be offered lollipops.

As the children left, George shouted his best wishes after them, and got more specific as time wore on; first, 'Happy Halloweeeen!'- amusing enough on its own when you can't say L- then, to a crew of varied alien/zombie/corpse children, 'Happy Halloween you trick or treat stonefaced skeleton heads'. And finally, as The Dark Lord and his mum disappeared up our driveway, 'Happy Halloween, Darth Vader! And- Skull and Crossbones!!'

He fell asleep, in the time honoured tradition, as soon as his head touched the pillow.